City of Secrets
by jessxreality
Summary: Post-CoG spoliers -Jace, Clary, Isabelle, Alec and Simon meet a strange new girl at Pandemonium. She has a rune on her wrist, but isn't a shadowhunter. With a dark history and darker secrets Blair becomes the new bleeding disaster of the story.
1. Binding Rune

* * *

**Chapter 1**

It was on her wrist.

He never would have noticed it had she not reached past him to grab her drink from the bar.

For a moment, they locked eyes. It was at that moment when he saw the mark on her wrist.

She straightened up, tipping her head almost regally, confidence radiating from under her eyelashes. Before she walked away, she looked at him as if she knew the secret to the universe. He turned, watching her. Now that he was looking he could see the outline of a blade at her hip. Not a seraph blade, but certainly a knife. He wouldn't have been surprised if there was another in her knee high leather boots.

But it was the tattoo that worried him. It was a binding rune. Blood rune. It looked like an S with another smaller flipped S inside of it.

He also noticed her scars. A large angry red line across her throat. As she'd leaned over, he'd been able too see another over her upper arm under her leather jacket.

But she wasn't a Shadowhunter. He was sure of it. She couldn't be a mundane. They couldn't handle runes. So who was she, and why did she have a rune on her wrist?

"Jace?" He was hardly able to hear Clary over the music. She touched his arm, her eyes looking in the direction of the girl. "Who's that?" He thought he heard jealousy in her voice, but it was faint enough to ignore.

"I have no idea. But I need to find out."

"Wait. What?" Clary looked confused.

"Get Isabelle and Simon."

"Why?" But Jace was already threading through the crowd of Pandemonium, past a girl with crimson eyes, her glamour not quite hiding all the fey in her, and a boy with hair that floated as if it were in water.

He followed the girl through the club, then through a few doorways, which led outside, to a back alley littered with cigarette butts and beer cans.

Her stride had slowed, as if she were waiting for something.

"Running away?" Jace called to her.

She stopped, five or so paces from Jace, her back to him. She tipped her head to look over her shoulder at Jace and said, "Following me?" Her voice was soft and reserved, contrasting with the confidence in her stance. But there was something in it that was… mesmerising.

"Where'd you get the tattoo? On your wrist." Faint music drifted from inside the club.

She laughed as she turned to face him. They were five or so paces from each other, yet no one tried to close the gap.

She was tall for a girl, but no taller than Jace, and about his age. She wore simple black jeans, tight around her legs, tucked into dull leather boots. A fitted black t-shirt was under the leather jacket she was wearing.

She wasn't pretty, but Jace was sure that something about her wasn't quite right. Her hair was cropped short, a golden brown that was almost auburn. She had freckles to match her pale skin, and blue eyes that were so dull they were almost grey.

"Recognise it?" she said in a tone that could only be described as teasing. She looked at Jace though her lashes. Usually the gesture would be seen as sultry, but on this girl it seemed sinister.

"You could say that. It's a binding rune. What is a mundane doing with a binding rune on her wrist?"

Then, with a flurry of noise, Clary, Simon and Isabelle burst through the back door of the club. Isabelle was ready with her whip in hand, Clary a blade, and Simon looking menacing in a geeky vampire way.

The girl smiled with one half of her mouth. She looked amused. "Two and a half shadow hunters and a vampire with a fated mark. I'm intrigued."

"What?" Simon asked. Jace glanced at Clary. She was just as surprised as Simon.

"What do you know about Simon's mark?" Clary asked. She moved towards Jace, standing beside him. Isabelle and Simon also moved forward so the four of them were standing in a row.

"Nothing," the girl shrugged.

"Then why did you say 'fated'?" Clary demanded.

"Because I can taste it."

"Excuse me?" hissed Simon.

"Who are you?" Isabelle asked, looking suspicious. "Jace?"

"She has a mark," Jace said.

The girl rolled her eyes. "It's not a mark. I don't have a stele."

"But you're a Shadowhunter?" Isabelle asked, her voice rising with uncertainty.

The girl raised an eyebrow and asked rhetorically, "Do I look like a Shadowhunter?"

Simon answered anyway. "All black, creepy confidence, irritating arrogance. I'd say Shadowhunter."

The girl smiled. "I like you," she said. "What's your name?"

Simon seemed taken aback. "Err… Simon."

"You look like a David," she shrugged.

"Look," Jace said, "all we need to know is who you are. Then we'll leave you alone."

"Yeah right, like I've never heard that one before. I'm…" For a moment she looked like she was trying to mouth words that wouldn't form in her mouth. She gave a frustrated sigh. "Who I am is irrelevant. I have the Sight. I'm not a threat, and I don't want to get involved in Shadowhunter business."

"If you were human you wouldn't be able to deal with a rune," Isabelle pointed out.

The girl stuck her wrist out. "It's a tattoo. Not a rune. A mundane tattoo."

"Then why the weapons?" Jace asked.

The girl smiled that sinister smile and pulled out her blade. "This? Because demons are harder to kill with my hands."

"You've killed a demon?" Isabelle's voice was filled with disbelief.

"You haven't?" the girl said, mock surprise plastered all over her face.

"That's impossible," Isabelle concluded.

"That depends on how good you are with the whip. If you suck, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't killed a demon before."

Simon gave a choked laugh.

Isabelle looked momentarily frustrated. "I meant it was impossible for _you_ to have killed a demon."

"Why?" The girl seemed genuinely intrigued as to why Isabelle thought the way she did.

"Because you're a mundane."

"And heaven forbid if I should defend myself from demons instead of waiting for the valiant Shadowhunters to save me." Sarcasm was thick in her voice. "Shadowhunters are given runes and arrogance for protection, but other than that, what are you? You're just humans with knowledge."

"And what? You're proof of that?" Jace asked.

"No. I'm what happens when a human is forced to live amongst Downworlders without runes and weapons. Sure, I have kick-ass hand-to-hand combat skills, but the scars don't look so great."

Suddenly, she straightened up, turned, and peered into the darkness.

Jace stiffened, ready to chase her if she ran.

For a moment, she listened, before facing the group again and saying, "Um… just thought you might want a heads up, a few vampires seem to be heading our way."

"How do you know?" Simon sounded nervous.

"I can hear them."

Jace was entirely surprised as Raphael strode silently out of the shadows, followed by two taller, older – well, age was relative – vampires.

Raphael gave a pointed look at Simon, baring his teeth just slightly. Simon straightened his stance. Raphael ignored the gesture and ran his eyes over Isabelle, Clary and Jace, before settling on the girl.

"Meddling with Shadowhunters too, are you now, Blair?" he said to her.

"Not by choice," Blair, answered.

"No," Raphael said with venom in his voice, "You'd just rather meddle with vampires."

Blair rolled her eyes as her stance relaxed. "Oh, please. I only meddle with one vampire."

Jace immediately grew suspicious. Was this a Downworlder affair they should stay out of?

"My vampire," Raphael growled.

"First, he's not your vampire anymore. He left your little fan club years ago. And second, you don't scare me."

"I'd say that was a sign of your stupidity rather than any real reflection on me," Raphael answered.

Blair grinned. "Raphael, you're two inches shorter than me. Of course it's a reflection on you."

Raphael just bared his teeth. "What are you doing here anyway?" he asked Blair.

"I came to dance and get drunk in celebration of my own self-destruction. And apparently I can't even do that without running into Downworlders on a power trip and Shadowhunters on an ego boost."

Simon laughed again. "Are you sure _this_ girl isn't your sister, Jace?"

Clary elbowed Simon in the ribs and Isabelle gave him an icy glare. Jace just turned his head to Simon and rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Blair asked Raphael.

For the briefest moment, Raphael looked uncomfortable. Blair grinned.

"Oh, don't tell me," Blair began to laugh.

Jace wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Raphael blush.

"Well, I wouldn't want to interrupt," Blair said, still laughing. "Go ahead." She stepped aside, giving Raphael and his bodyguards' room to pass. Raphael made a noise of annoyance when he was stopped by Jace stepping forward, breaking the line.

"I don't think so," Jace said, drawing a seraph blade. "What is a vampire doing going into a nightclub full of living, breathing humans?"

"Jace," Jace was surprised to hear his name in the unfamiliar voice of Blair, "just let him go. He's not going to kill anyone. You know that. He's just got some business to attend to. No one's getting hurt… except perhaps him." Blair began laughing softly again.

"You," Raphael said hotly towards Blair, "should not assume you know everything."

"But I do know everything, so there's no real need to assume," she answered.

"Maybe Simon's right," Isabelle said softly, a smile growing. "I think she _is_ you, Jace."

Jace shot Isabelle a look, then turned back to Blair. She was now leaning casually against the wall of the alley, inspecting her nails. Under the moonlight they looked silver.

Raphael backed away muttering, "Sunrise is coming soon anyway. Perhaps I will leave and return when Shadowhunters aren't swarming the area." His voice was cold and irritable.

"Always good to see you, Raph," Blair teased with a waving hand. But as he passed her she shot out her arm and held the bottom of his jacket. She whispered something low in his ear. He answered with a growl and yanked away from her.

He bared his teeth again and slunk away into the shadows, moving out of sight.

Jace turned his head to Simon, "What was that?"

"I only caught bits of it," Simon said in a low voice, "But she asked about someone called Nat? Raphael said something about keeping away from his children."

Jace took this in. Blair was more connected to the vampires than she was leading on.

There was silence for a moment before Blair straightened up and said, "Well, I'm outta' here. Hope to never see you all again. Bye."

Jace darted forward, blocking her way. Blair sighed and took a step back.

"You're friends with vampires?"

"Not friends," Blair answered. "I hate Raphael and his clan. They act all badass, but they're more prissy than the cast of _The O.C_."

"The what?" Jace asked.

"It's a teen TV show," Simon filled in.

"Whatever," Jace muttered. "Then what vampire are you meddling with?" he asked.

"Jack. We live together." She said it as a simple fact.

"Are you two…?" Clary trailed off.

"Of course they are," Isabelle said. "She has a binding rune."

Again Blair rolled her eyes. "Christ no, I don't do vampires. They're too cold. And like I said, usually prissy."

"That's not true," Simon argued.

"To be fair, I actually like you, so I guess I can give you a reprieve. Anyway, we're just friends. The rune was for my protection."

"You, a human, thought the best place to go looking for protection was a vampire?" Jace asked her.

"I trust him more than I trust the fey," she shrugged.

"How did you get involved in all this?" Isabelle asked.

"I have the Sight. I'm sure you know humans with the Sight are constantly in danger. Seeing a world that's not supposed to exist doesn't really go down well in the average mundane society. So, when Jack offered me his protection, I accepted. It all worked out very well."

"No, I mean what about your family. Do you have one?"

And, for the first time all night, Blair faltered. "I did."

"What happened?" Clary asked.

Blair took a step away from Jace. "It's not any of your business. I'm not your trouble to deal with. So, I'll be leaving."

"You're not telling us everything," Jace said.

Blair leaned forward, as if she were about to tell Jace a secret. "You know, when I told Raphael I knew everything, I was being sarcastic. I don't _actually_ know everything. Sorry if I got your hopes up."

Suddenly the night was shattered with the sound of a cell phone. Jace answered it. Alec was on the other end of the line.

"Where are you? You were all supposed to be back at the Institute at one. Mom's really annoyed," Alec informed them, though his words sounded slightly slurred.

"When did you get home?" Jace asked him.

"Just now. That's how I know Mom's annoyed. She just lectured me. You should get home soon."

"Have you been drinking?" Jace asked.

"Err… I was at Magnus'." Alec sounded uncomfortable. Jace laughed.

"Fine, we'll be home soon. But we found a mundane with the Sight. She has a rune tattooed on her wrist. And we just had a run in with Raphael."

"Are you all okay?" Alec asked, his voice sounding more alert.

"Yeah, we're all fine, but ask Maryse what she wants us to do with the mundane."

"Sure, hold on." There was some murmuring that Jace couldn't quite hear, then Alec was back on the phone. "She says if you're concerned then you should bring her back to the Institute."

"Okay, we'll be home in half an hour."

"Bye."

Jace hung up.

"No, no, no way," Blair said, backing up against the alley wall. "I am not going to a Shadowhunter Institute. Not a chance."

"Look," Jace said, suddenly his patience lost, "You are coming back to the Institute whether you like it or not. We're doing this for your protection."

"I have protection. Only it's less egotistical and more-"

"Dead?" Jace filled in.

Blair's jaw locked. She made a move to walk past Jace. He grabbed her arm. For a moment he felt her resistance, but she relented instantly. He was surprised. He'd sworn he felt static run up his arm the instant he'd touched her.

"We'll get a cab," he told her, still not letting go of her arm.

"And this is why I prefer human boys," Blair muttered, giving a pointed look at Jace, "At least I can run from them."


	2. Pandemonium A Year Ago

**Chapter 2**

**_Pandemonium - A year ago_**

"_You've got to be kidding me," the bouncer said, folding his arms over his massive chest. "You can't bring that in here."_

_Blair watched as the fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. She looked at the blue haired demon as he tried to smuggle the stake into the club. Immediately Blair tensed up, an irrational desire to stop the demon. _

"_Just leave it," Jack said as he guided Blair into the club, past two teens, one, a girl with fiery red hair, the other a taller guy with black hair and glasses. Blair only noticed them because they didn't look like the usual crowd at Pandemonium. And, the girl tasted strange. She wasn't human. But she didn't taste like a Downworlder either. Blair would have assumed that she was Shadowhunter, but she didn't bare any marks or scars. Blair shook it off. The girl wasn't any threat, so therefore, inconsequential. "He's not your problem."_

"_Not yet," Blair muttered. "If he tries to hurt someone, I will-"_

"_Not do anything unless you want everyone to know what you are," Jack finished as they entered the dark, flickering club. _

"_I'll be careful." Her voice was just as quite as it had been outside, even though the music drowned out everything. Jack could hear her anyway. _

"_You won't be anything," he said, and gave her a stern look. Blair pouted and slipped away from his hand that was on her back. Jack gave a frustrated sigh and said, "I'll get us some drinks. Try not to get killed."_

"_He's just a shapeshifter. I'm strong enough to take him. He could never kill me." But Jack had already walked away, ignoring her. Blair coughed once, hating to admit that the dry-ice smoke made her feel a little lightheaded. She moved away from the immediate crowd to a wall, leaning casually against it. The club was mostly full of humans, but there were vampires scattered around, a couple of fey – only the younger ones – and few other Downworlders. _

_It was in that moment that Blair saw the girl. A girl who seemed as if she didn't fit in with the world. From the dress and the beauty, Blair would have guessed fey, but this girl didn't taste like fey. Her long hair was jet black, her gown a distinguished white with lace. She wore thigh high boots and around her neck was a dark red pendant with a real and precious stone. The demon Blair had noticed earlier was now following the girl. Blair wasn't close enough to taste the girl's true name, but she knew immediately what this girl was the moment she tasted the runes that were marked onto her skin. _

_Shadowhunter. _

_The Shadowhunter girl slipped into a storage closet, the demon following. Another two Shadowhunters, tall, dressed in black, also followed. Blair scanned the whole club, noticing the red-haired girl looking nervous, and also beginning to make her way towards the closet. Apprehension flowed through Blair. This, was going to turn bad. Blair flickered her glamour to invisibility easily and also began to follow the others into the closet. Jack would kill her, but she figured it was worth it. Three Shadowhunters, a demon, and a girl who didn't know she was a Shadowhunter; this wasn't going to end well. _

_As soon as Blair entered the NO ADMITANCE door, she could easily taste the names of all the Shadowhunters. Demons didn't have names; they just tasted like a mixture of smoke and water. Kind of like having wet tissues stuffed into your mouth. The tall dark boy was Alec Lightwood. The girl Isabelle Lightwood. Blair could taste the brother-sister bond. The red-haired girl – who was hiding behind a concrete pillar – was named Clarissa Fairchild. Some human linkage – Blair assumed from a mundane upbringing – blurred her name slightly, but the Shadowhunter name was there, and stood out. The blond boy, who was now talking threatening nonsense to the demon, was harder to read. He had a true name, but it was hidden under lies and truth. Jace. Jace was his first name. Blair licked her lips. Wayland was there. So was Morganstern. Herondale. Even Lightwood. She wasn't sure. There were too many. Kind of like trying to taste to many flavours at once. Blair quietly watched the proceedings in the closet. A few times she had been ready to take control, but everything fell into place, and the demon was killed by the Shadowhunters. _

_The girl, Clary was almost worth worrying about, but she was Shadowhunter, and Blair didn't want to get involved in Nephilim issues. She'd stayed secret for over a year now. She wanted to keep it that way until completely necessary. _

* * *

_When Blair figured it was safe to leave, she slipped out of the closet, moving to a darker corner of the club to strip off her glamour discreetly. Generally, just dropping a glamour in the middle of a crowded club didn't go down so well – Blair had noticed that people appearing out of thin usually scared humans. Blair tasted Jack's anger before she saw him; he was stalking up to her, his muscles tensed. _

"_I know you think you're invincible, but I swear to you, I'll kill you myself if it proves something," he growled, grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the exit. _

_Blair didn't resist, only shrugged and said, "You know it wouldn't."_

_Jack stopped abruptly and turned to face her. "Damn it, Blair. You don't need to save everyone all the time. Sometimes people don't want saving. Sometimes they don't need it."_

"_Like you can talk," she said sulkily. _

_Jack stared down at Blair. "You needed to be saved. And don't pretend that you aren't grateful." The silver tattoo at his wrist glittered. _

"_You know I'm grateful." _

_Jack turned again, still fuming, and dragging Blair out of the club. When they were back on the street, Jack hailed a cab. They were both silent on the ride back to their house. Until Blair said, "They'll find me one day."Jack was still angry, the bitter emotion tasting slippery in Blair's mouth. He didn't answer. "They'll find me, and they'll want to train me. They'll take me away." Jack still didn't answer; he was looking out the window. "I won't come back," Blair said softly. _

Jack's head flicked toward her. "You'd stay with them? Shadowhunters? They only want you as a tool. They'll just want to use yo-"

"_I know," Blair cut him off. "I didn't mean that I would stay with them by choice. I meant that I won't becoming back because I won't be able to."_

_Jack still didn't understand. Or perhaps he did, and just didn't want to. _

"_I want you to look after my sisters," Blair's voice was soft and dim._

_Realisation dawned on his face. "You're going to die? How do you know?"_

"_Because I just know. So please. Just promise me. My sisters need looking after."_

_Jack faltered, then said, "Yes. I'll look after them."_

"_Thank you."_

_Jack looked away from her, angry again. He knew she was right. He knew it. She would die with the Shadowhunters. She would die with the Shadowhunters just trying to be herself._


	3. The Institute

**Back in present day**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

As soon as they stepped out of the cab, Blair laughed. "Seriously, could you get anything more cliché for a Shadowhunter head quarters?" she asked.

"You know, there isn't really need for you to comment on everything," Isabelle muttered dryly. She stepped out of the cab gracefully, her whip at her waist. Simon followed her, taking her hand and kissing her on the cheek, murmuring goodbyes. Simon also pecked Clary on the cheek and said goodbye. Although he was able to tolerate sunlight, churches were too much; he couldn't go into the Institute. Blair seemed uncomfortable with the exchange. Jace wondered if it was affection she had a problem with, or something else.

Just before Simon walked away Blair called out, her voice sounding soft and confident at the same time, "Your mark isn't as terrible as you think."

Simon spun, his movements fierce, but he didn't move any closer. "What?"

"The Mark of Cain. On your head."

"What do you know?" he asked.

Blair smiled. "The magic is going to slowly enter your blood. It's only mingled with your skin at the moment. If anyone tries to kill you now, they wouldn't suffer. But when it reaches your blood, that's when the mark begins to take effect."

"And what will happen to Simon?" Clary asked. There was fear in her voice.

Blair looked over her as if it were the first time she'd noticed her. She turned back to Simon. "Well, when it reaches your brain, you will start to hear things people don't say. You'll need to learn to control that."

"How do you know this? That mark hasn't been used in years." Jace, again, was suspicious.

"I told you. I can taste it."

"What do you mean by 'things people don't say'?" This was Simon. He was more curious than scared.

"Thoughts," Blair answered easily. She crossed her arms over her chest as if she were cold. "You'll be able to hear people's thoughts. But like I said, you'll need to learn to control it. I think the reason the mark was so feared, was because of the way people were affected by it. Anyone who received it usually couldn't control all the foreign thoughts that were suddenly in their minds. They became overwhelmed and their brain couldn't comprehend all the information simultaneously. Think about it like a computer that becomes overloaded and shuts down. Only people can't shut down, so they just went crazy instead. If you learn to only let in the things you want to hear, you should be fine." Blair paused, in thought. "Magnus could teach you. He's good with mind stuff."

"Thanks for the tip," Simon suddenly said. He didn't seem as scared as Jace would've expected. Perhaps he wasn't surprised by the information. Jace wondered if Simon was already feeling mind effects from the mark. "I'm leaving." He waved one last time, then disappeared silently down the street.

"You know Magnus _and_ Raphael?" Isabelle seemed incredulous.

"I've been living with Downworlders for two years now. Yeah, I know some people."

"You don't happen to know the faery queen and Luke too, do you?" Jace muttered sarcastically.

"Well, the Seelie queen is a sadistic bitch, who I really don't ever want to see again, but Luke is one Downworlder I actually like, and he's been good to…" she faltered for a second, "his pack."

"How come Luke never mentioned you?" Jace asked.

"He thinks I'm an unlucky human of no consequence. I work at The Hunter's Moon."

There was awkward silence for a few moments before Clary said, "I should go home."

Jace turned to her, taking her hands. "Don't go. Come in. I'll drop you home in the morning."

Clary smiled softly and said, "I'll call Mom."

"I'm freezing," Isabelle complained, irritated now that Simon was gone. "Can we go inside?"

"Hey, I'm just waiting for the password," Blair joked with a shrug. Jace was about to tell her that only Shadowhunters could open the doors to the Institute when Blair walked arrogantly past Clary and Jace and to the large doors of the Institute. She lifted her hands up to the sky and shouted, "On the existential Angel of somewhere, let me enter this holy place of conceit and irritable pragmatism." Mocking praise was thick in her voice. Then, suddenly, to everyone's surprise, the doors swung open. Blair turned with a grin, "Hey, what do you know, someone up there likes me."

"Too bad people down here don't," Jace said under his breath.

Blair walked into the Institute as if she owned it. Her confidence flickered off the walls like a burning fire. Isabelle, Clary and Jace followed. Jace caught up to Blair and grabbed her elbow. She paused, staring at Jace, a storm in the dull grey of her eyes.

"I'll lead the way," he challenged.

* * *

They ended up in the library. Maryse was waiting for them, standing with her hands behind her back, armed with words. "I said one o'clock." Her voice was stern. She was standing her back to the large desk Jace still referred to as 'Hodge's desk'. Jace walked forward, Clary at his side, Isabelle following. Blair walked forward slowly, as if she was studying everything around her.

"We ran into Raphael," Isabelle said, as if that could somehow dispel her mother's anger. She stopped walking a few paces behind Jace and Clary, as if she were using them a shield.

"I didn't know Shadowhunters had curfews," Blair smiled lazily. She moved around Isabelle so she was to the right of Maryse and leaned back on the heels of her feet.

Maryse's head snapped around to look at her. "Who, may I ask, are you?" Her words were ice. Isabelle gave a nervous glance at Jace. Maryse wasn't in a good mood. At all.

"Blair. Taken against my own will by your disobedient children." She stuck her hand out to Maryse. Maryse stared at it, then looked at Blair's face. Blair didn't seem deterred by her gaze. Jace, had to admit, he was impressed. He didn't know of anyone – not even Robert – who could stand up to Maryse's glares and still look calm and brazen.

"A mundane with a rune," Maryse said as she grabbed Blair's wrist, studying the tattoo. Blair seemed fleetingly irritated by Maryse's touch, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Stereotypes are so ugly," Blair answered. There was laugher in her voice. It seemed everything she said was said with a joke. Though usually a cynical, sarcastic joke, rather than a funny one.

Maryse let go of her wrist, and Blair stepped back. There was a noise at the end of the library – the doors opening. As soon as Alec walked into the room Blair grinned. She was leaning against one of the bookshelves looking smug. At first Alec didn't notice her. When his gaze found her, he did a double take. "You," he said. There was surprise and irritation in his voice.

Blair's grin widened.

"This is the mundane you picked up?" Alec asked.

"Yeah," Jace answered. "Do you know her?"

Alec was staring at Blair. "Go on," Blair said. "Tell them, I don't mind."

"She's not a mundane. She's fey."

"Part fey," Blair said indignantly.

"That's not possible. You're not…" Isabelle trailed off.

Blair raised an eyebrow. "Pretty? Yeah, well, I guess I inherited a Shadowhunter glamour." She lazily leaned against the bookshelf again. "Seriously, you'd think they'd educate you people on Downworlders."

"We can see through glamour," Isabelle said.

Alec moved. "She's not a normal fey. Like she said, she's only part fey. Magnus was scarce on details about her, but she has the blood of a vampire too.

Blair stuck out her wrist, showing everyone the tattoo. "Yeah. That was what the binding rune is. A blood rune. Jack's blood."

"You injected vampire blood into your skin?" Isabelle looked disgusted.

Blair laughed as she looked over her. "Right, but screwing one isn't a problem?"

Isabelle stepped back, flitting a anxious glance at her mother. "That's… that's completely different."

Maryse looked immediately furious. "Isabelle?"

Isabelle looked like a fish floundering in a net, a deep red blush creeping up her cheeks. Blair grinned. It was Jace who broke the tension.

" 'Inherited a Shadowhunter glamour'?" he questioned.

Blair stiffened for a split second, and then relaxed again.

"Part fey… part Shadowhunter?" Realisation dawned on Alec's face. "That's why Magnus was so weird about you. That's why he wanted me to stay away from you."

"It would make sense as to why the doors opened for her," Isabelle put in.

Blair rolled her eyes at them. "Damn you all for being so observant. Fine. I'm part fey, part Shadowhunter." She said it as if she resented the words, and they only reluctantly came from her mouth.

"But you said you were human at Pandemonium," Clary pointed out. "Fey can't lie."

"I never said I was human. You all assumed and I didn't correct you."

"I need to talk to the Clave," Maryse informed them, looking suddenly exhausted.

"Whoa, what?" Blair's alarm rang clear in her voice. "Uh-uh, no way, not a chance. No Clave for me, thanks."

"This has never happened before. A Fey-Shadowhunter child. In fact, I didn't even think it was possible. Who were your parents?"

Blair shrugged. "I don't know. I only know I have fey and Shadowhunter blood from things I pieced together. Magnus got a vibe. The Seelie queen did too. But I know nothing of my ancestry."

"How come?" Clary asked.

"I was adopted as I child. I'm guessing it's because my parents figured it was too dangerous for a Fey-Shadowhunter hybrid freak to be brought up by the Clave. Of course they didn't think through the whole noticing-I-have-wings thing."

"Did you always know you were fey?" Isabelle seemed curious.

"Nope. A glamour was put over me as a baby. Kind of like a changeling child. The glamour grew with me. It was only a few years ago I actually found out I was fey."

"And now, you're under a glamour?"

"Do I look silver to you?" she asked rhetorically.

"You're silver?" Clary asked.

Blair looked at Jace. "You noticed it. My nails," she said.

"Yeah," Jace answered. "I just thought it was the light."

"I don't understand though," Clary began. "When Luke got bitten by a werewolf, he lost his Shadowhunter blood. So how come Blair can take in vampire blood, be part Fey and still be part Shadowhunter."

"I don't think the Shadowhunter part is active," Maryse said. "She's never actually been marked with a stele."

"Fine, I'm game," Blair said. She held out her hand expectantly, but no one gave her their stele.

"It could kill you," Alec said. "Downworlders can't be marked."

"I can taste runes, it's how I read them. I wasn't taught that. Surely that has to count for something. Wouldn't that mean that there is something Shadowhunter in me," Blair said, then, faster than any of the Shadowhunters could see, she'd darted past Alec and was suddenly three steps behind him, his stele in her right hand.

Before anyone could act, she'd already marked the back of her left hand with the permanent rune – the open eye – all Shadowhunters had to improve skill with weapons. Once she'd finished, she threw the stele back to Alec. He hardly had time to catch it. "Thought I'd join the club," she said smugly.

Each Shadowhunter was stiff with sudden anxiety.

"You're right handed. You were supposed to mark your right hand," Jace said.

Blair shrugged. "I'm ambidextrous. I could have marked both hands if I wanted to."

"You knew what the rune meant?" Maryse asked.

"Yeah. Weapon skill. Sure."

"How?"

"I told you, runes have a different taste. That's how I know their meaning."

"Taste?"

"Yeah, one of the fey side-effects. I taste emotions, runes, auras etc." Everything she said and did was done with a lazy confidence about her. It irritated Jace. Blair suddenly turned on him. "You don't realise, but you do exactly the same thing."

"Can you read minds too?"

"No. I told you. Just emotions."

Maryse made a movement. "I want all my children to go to bed. Isabelle, Alec and Jace, I'll talk to both of you in the morning. Clary you should go hom-"

"I invited her to stay," Jace interjected.

Maryse's face clouded over. "She will be going home, Jace. You can take her there if you want, but she's not staying here." She looked to Blair. "I need to contact the Clave. Jace will escort you home to get whatever you need to stay for a while. We need to find out what to do with you, Blair."

Blair straightened her stance, but didn't object. Jace wondered why. Isabelle and Alec left the room.

"I don't have a choice in this, do I?" Blair asked Maryse.

"No."

"And if I run you'll track me down?"

"Yes."

"Why? I'm just an irritation to you guys. Why can't I just continue living the way I have?"

"Don't you want to know who your family is?"

"I already do," Blair said softly. "And they aren't some magical family that disowned me from birth."

"Your mundane family?" Maryse asked. "Where are they now?"

Blair's jaw clenched for a moment, and she said, her voice stiff, "Dead."

"I see," Maryse nodded. "And you have no interest in your biological parents?"

"I grew up with my family. My biological mother and father are meaningless."

* * *

Clary, Jace and Blair decided to take the subway to Brooklyn. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so, as they walked to the train station. Blair lagged behind the whole time, as if she didn't want to intrude on Jace and Clary. Jace still had a suspicion that she was uncomfortable with displays of affection. The train ride was silent, Jace and Clary too uncomfortable to talk with Blair sitting a seat away. Blair just stared out the window. Her eyes flickered with the moving surroundings, taking in the details of the city. As usually, she seemed disinterested.

When they finally reached Clay's house, Jace walking Clary all the way to her door, Blair said she'd wait in the front yard. Jace was hesitant, but Blair assured him – not without a condescending tone – that she'd stay within his eye line. At Clary's door, Clary stopped to stare at Jace seriously. "I don't like her, Jace," Clary confided in him.

"Neither do I," he told her. "She's hiding something."

Clary didn't like the coldness about her. Sure, she was casual and everything she said was with a sarcastic cynicism, but there was something underneath that. A darker more self-destructive side. Clary hated that Jace was going to her house by himself. She knew she couldn't go with him – firstly, because Jocelyn was not going to happy about her staying out till three, but also because he didn't want her going to the house of a vampire – but she still wanted to be with him. It didn't exactly make Clary feel secure about Jace though. Not that she didn't trust him. Clary didn't trust Blair – or her vampire.

"I'll call you in the morning," he told her, kissing her softly. She smiled at him, then, as the front door opened, jumped away. It was Jocelyn, looking all but pleased. She was wearing pyjamas, but had thrown a gown over her shoulders. Her feet were bare.

"It's three, Jace," she said, staring intently at Clary.

"Sorry, we had some trouble at Pandemonium," Jace told her, his voice almost sounding intimidated. Clary would have laughed had her mother not been staring her down. Jace had killed nine-feet-tall demons, but Clary's mother freaked him out.

"What trouble?" This had come from Luke. He was standing behind Jocelyn, looking at Jace with concern. He was only wearing shorts and an old t-shirt.

"Well, Raphael, but-"

"Raphael?" Jocelyn almost looked hysterical.

"Mom, he didn't cause any trouble," Clary told her.

"No, actually it was something else," Jace said.

Luke narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"A girl we met. She's waiting downstairs," Clary said.

"Part fey, part Shadowhunter," Jace stared at Luke. "Actually Luke, you know her."

"I don't know any Fey-Shadowhunter. I've never even heard of one existing. Is it possible?" Luke looked concerned, and beyond belief. Jocelyn still looked angry, although she was listening to the conversation with some intent.

"Apparently, she acted human," Clary said. "Her name's Blair."

Luke stiffened at the name. "Blair? But she's… no she's just an innocent victim."

"Of what?" Jace asked.

"Her sister is one of my pack," he said. "Two years ago her sister – Dee – was taken by the fey and held hostage in the Seelie Court. She ended up escaping but found the closest Downworlder group she could join out of fear. She's a werewolf by choice. Dee figured being a wolf was better than being trapped in a fey court again."

"That sounds awful," Clary said.

"I only met her when I became leader, but I'd heard the story before. Blair and her sisters are somewhat notorious. Dee is a very sweet girl. Blair comes to the pack every now and then to visit her. In fact, she works at The Hunter's Moon – the bar you almost single-handedly destroyed, Jace."

"Well… that is interesting," Jace mused.

"Apparently," Luke continued, "Blair has another sister. Though this is only a rumour that runs through the Downworld. Gossip says the other sister is a vampire. One of Raphael's actually."

Jace closed his eyes for a second. "Of course, that was what she was asking Raphael about." Jace turned to Clary. "Remember what Simon told us?"

"Yeah, she asked about someone called Nat," Clary nodded.

"A vampire, werewolf and Fey/Shadowhunter with mundane parents. What a multi-specied family. I should get going. I need to fill-in Maryse. She's going to talk to the Clave in the morning." Jace took a step back from the door.

"If Maryse needs either of us," Luke said, pointing to himself and Jocelyn, "just call."

"Sure," Jace said to Luke. Then to Clary, "I'll call you in the morning."

She nodded. Jace turned away.

"And Jace." This was Jocelyn's voice. "If you don't get my daughter back at a reasonable time in the future, you'll only be able to see her in the daylight."

Jace nodded, wincing, then left.


	4. The Hunter's Moon A Year Ago

**Chapter 4**

___**The Hunter's Moon - A Year Ago**_

_It was a few months before Jace Wayland entered Hunter's Moon that a young girl inquired about a position bar tending. It had only been a few days earlier that Freaky Pete had even fired his last employee. Yet, somehow the girl knew he was looking to hire before he had even put a sign advertising the position. She was tall, but slim, and very normal looking for a mundane. Young, maybe only sixteen. _

"_Look, I'll be honest with you," Freaky Pete said. "Yes, I do need someone to fill a position, but you, frankly aren't what I'm looking for." She was a mundane. This was a place for werewolves. "Some of my customers can get very… rowdy, and I need a strong hand to take control. You're too young anyway."_

_The girl's face dropped. "Well, see that's my problem, no one will hire me because I'm too young. And I need a job. I… my parents aren't around anymore."_

_Pete wondered if she was trying to play the sympathy act, but she seemed angry rather than sad. "And I'm sorry for that, but you're just not right for the job. Sometimes my customers can turn-"_

"_Into wolves?" she finished. _

_Pete fell still. "I was going to say violent drunks, but that will work too." The girl was silent. "What's your name?" Pete asked. _

"_Blair."_

"_And you're a Shadowhunter?" It was obvious she wasn't a werewolf or a vampire. She wasn't pretty enough to be fey, but very few humans knew about werewolves. He thought she could be a warlock, but she didn't have that magic aura about her. _

"_Tell me, do I look like a Shadowhunter?" Blair laughed. She pulled up her sleeves and said, "I have no marks."_

"_So, a human who knows about wolves?"_

"_My sister is one of Gabriel's pack."_

"_I see." Pete paused for a moment, considering. "What skills do you have?"_

"_I can handle a crowd. Trust me. And werewolves won't mess with a human anyway. It's against the Law."_

_Pete had to agree. The girl had confidence that radiated from her. "I suppose I could give you a chance."_

_Blair's face lit up. "When?"_

"_Are you free tonight?"_

"_Perfect."_

* * *

_On that first night Pete knew Blair was perfect for the job. He also knew that there was something she wasn't telling him. Still, Pete had learned that sometimes it was better not to ask. Blair learned all the basics easily, which was always a useful asset, but it was the way she handled the wolves that sealed the deal. She laughed at all the bad jokes, and even made a few of her own. She never lost her confidence and never seemed scared, even when one guy threatened to rip out another guy's throat. In fact, she handled it even better than Pete thought he could. _

_From that night on, Blair became a favourite. Freaky Pete was sure business had picked up. All the men loved her. Generally speaking, the women didn't, but the men just loved talking with her. There was nothing romantic or sexual about it, Blair was just great fun to be around. Often Pete found himself caught up in her stories or meaningless chatter. Blair's sister – Dee – often came into the bar too, just talking and laughing. But the one thing Blair was most brilliant with was her ability to pick out troublemakers. Freaky Pete had been running his bar for over ten years, and prided himself on being able to know who was going to start a fight or drink too much, but Blair's skill at identifying trouble blew him out of the water. The moment someone walked in the door she knew if they were going to get drunk, or if they were self-destructive or if they were looking for a fight. She knew when customers were angry or frustrated or scared or upset, and knew exactly how to deal with the situation. She just knew. Blair was Freaky Pete's best hiring move ever. _

_But it was the day when the Shadowhunter, Jace Wayland, entered the bar a few months later that things changed. At the moment he entered the bar, Blair clammed up. She stopped laughing at the joke Bat had told and moved silently to Pete. _

"_He's trouble," she said softly._

"_I know. He's a Shadowhunter."_

_Blair shook her head. "Yeah, but he's self-destructive. He wants a fight. You should get Luke. Luke knows him. Luke will know what to do."_

_Pete nodded, with complete faith in Blair, ordered one of the cubs to get Luke, then moved to serve the Shadowhunter. _

_Blair stopped him for a moment. "Wait, I'm not getting mixed up in Shadowhunter business. Can I do some paper work in the back till he leaves?"_

"_Sure," Pate said, but he was apprehensive. _

_The moment Jace, Luke, Simon and Clary left, Blair was back to help Pete close up. When the last of the customers had finally been herded out Pete asked Blair, "You heard about Josef? The cub that was killed?"_

"_Yes. I heard."_

"_You're not human, are you?" Freaky Pete asked her._

_Blair stopped counting the money in the till. Then she said, "No. I'm not human."_

_Pete nodded. "Why were you so terrified of the Shadowhunter?"_

_Blair sighed and looked to Pete. "I don't want to lose my job, and I want you to trust me, but I can only tell you so much of my story."_

"_Blair, I already trust you."_

_Blair only nodded. "My parents were killed by fey. My sisters taken hostage by them. Dee then joined Luke's – well, at the time it was Gabriel's – pack, and my other sister became a vampire."_

_Pete cringed. "And you?" he asked. _

"_Well, I got caught up in the fey world. I live with a vampire now, and work with werewolves."  
_

"_You live with a vampire?" Pete sounded incredulous and disgusted – the hatred for vampires was instilled in werewolves._

"_He saved my life, and offered me safety. He's a good guy and I trust him. I know you don't like vampires, neither do I, but Jack's different."_

_Pete couldn't agree, but he understood. "And the Shadowhunters?"_

"_I know that if they find me, they'll want me." She didn't say anything more, but instead began counting the till again. _

_Freaky Pete left it. He had no right to pry. The two of them locked up the Hunter's Moon and Pete asked, "See you tomorrow?"_

_Blair smiled gratefully, "Definitely."_

"_Did you need a lift home? It could be dangerous."_

"_No. I'm alright," Blair said. "When I told you I could hold my own, I didn't just mean with werewolves." She grinned. _

_Freaky Pete's eyebrows rose. "Demons too?"_

_Blair shrugged. "I did just want to ask one thing." She suddenly became sombre. "Is it true? Is Valentine back?"_

"_I shouldn't be telling you this," Pete sighed. "But yes. Luke told me. Valentine is back."_

* * *

_When Blair got home it was almost three in the morning - Jack was awake and waiting for her. He was sitting in the front living room looking worried. "I heard a cub was killed at the Hunter's Moon," he said. _

_Blair smelled of beer and wet dog and just wanted a shower. "It was a demon. Jace was there."_

"_The blond Shadowhunter?" Jack asked. _

"_Yeah. Don't worry, he didn't see me."_

"_Good."_

"_And apparently, Valentine is back."_

_Jack stood bolt upright. "No," he growled. _

"_It's true. He is."_

"_That isn't what I was disagreeing with."_

"_What were you disagreeing with then?  
_

"_You are not going to run to help. I won't let you."_

_Blair suddenly looked guilty. "But Valentine concerns all of us. If he wins this war, he'll want to eradicate all Downworlders."_

"_It's not even a war yet."_

"_But it will be. And they will need help."_

"_No!" he yelled at her. Blair fell into a surprised silence. "Let the Shadowhunters deal with it. And if they lose, then we'll do what we have to do."_

"_But my sisters-"_

"_No. No. There isn't going to be a discussion, _Dextra_," he said, using the last word as an order. "You will not fight a fight you will lose, for a cause that already has others fighting for it. And I swear to you, I will use your true name if I have to. Even if you hate me for it."_

_Blair was silent. Then, "If my sisters are hurt, I swear to you, I will kill you."_


	5. Jack's Place

******Back in present day**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Why the scars?" Jace asked Blair on the way to her house. She was slunk low in her seat on the train, staring at an advertisement on the wall.

"They're iron scars," Blair answered, her voice monotone, as if the conversation was boring her.

"Iron scars?" Jace asked.

Blair rolled her eyes. "All faeries are allergic to iron. It's not in our blood like it is in humans and Shadowhunters."

"I know that fey are allergic to iron," Jace said, sounding exasperated. "Give me a little credit. I'm not completely ignorant."

"Oh, so you're only mostly ignorant?" Blair asked with a smirk.

"I asked about your scars?" Jace muttered, changing the subject.

Blair grinned, as if she had won some battle. "I can't cover them with a glamour. Too strong to hide. Even for me," she said. She said it as though she was the most powerful faery in New York. She pointed to the one on her neck, "A spoke of a wrought iron gate. Almost killed me. Vampire." She pulled down the shoulder of her leather jacket to show what looked like a burn mark on her upper arm. "Shot. Warlock. Just missed me." She lifted her shirt showing a star scar about the diameter of a small fruit. "Stabbed. Werewolf." She dropped her shirt, and then grinned at Jace. "I'd show the scar on my leg, but I might embarrass you. And your girlfriend would like me even less."

"I'm fine," Jace said dryly. He'd noticed how she'd never actually strung her words together to say, "This scar was from a warlock." This led Jace to believe she was dodging the question. Perhaps lying. There had to be some art in escaping questions with the almost truth, and having your whole life to learn would make you devious. Jace assumed it as why fey were so dangerous. Their way with words was so carefully weaved into ambiguity, they could mean anything. They fell into silence again.

"How come you can ride the train and not get iron sickness?" Jace asked.

"My glamour protects me."

"How can a glamour protect?"

"The same way an umbrella shields from rain. A glamour dulls the outside world and the taste of iron and pollution is not as strong."

"But I've seen fey cringe at even the sound of a train passing. They are made of steel. Steel is an-"

"Alloy of iron, I know. I'm strong for fey," she told him.

Jace gave her a sideways glance. "Strong? I thought you grew up as human?"

"I did." Her tone was said with complete finite definition. "That's what made me stronger. Faeries are pathetic gluttonous creatures that shelter themselves from the world by hiding underground and gorging themselves on magic, food, humans and sex. They've never had to fend for themselves and they don't learn to use their magic because they are lazy. I'd be stronger than most of the fey in the Seelie Court simply because I've learned how to use my magic and how to defend myself." The resentfulness in her voice was evident.

"You hate them?"

Blair snapped her head at Jace. "Yes. I hate them."

"Because of what happened to your sisters."

Blair wasn't surprised or angry at Jace's comment. She just said, "No." Jace thought she wasn't going to say anything else, then, "I hate fey because of what happened to me. I hate myself because of what happened to my sisters."

Jace didn't answer.

* * *

"This is where you live?" Jace asked they pulled up to a tiny dilapidated house. It was squashed between identical houses, all falling apart. It looked like an old housing estate. The street lights were mostly flickering on and off, the pavement cracked and splintered. They were out of the actual city and into a more suburban area. Although, this neighbourhood definitely wasn't a good one – all the houses in the street were cold and seemed to be slanted to the left or right or falling forward on a precarious angle.

"Sorry, my massive, creepy, gothic mansion is being renovated."

Jace's mouth twitched. "I figured," he said, laughter in his voice.

Blair didn't bother knocking; she just hovered her hand over the lock –Jace assumed she was using magic – then pushed the door open, without ever touching the wood.

"Blair, that you?" a dark rusty voice called. Blair flicked on a light and the small living room was illuminated.

"Yeah," she answered.

The inside of the house was clean, Jace noticed. Neat and ordered, as if it were expecting visitors all the time.A vampire appeared in the doorway of a dark room. Jack, Jace assumed. The vampire took one look at Jace then said to Blair, "Look, I know freaks turn you on, but seriously, did you have to bring home a Shadowhunter; they're just annoying."

Jace noticed the vampire had an identical tattoo to Blair's on his left wrist. Only his was a cool silver, like metal mercury flashing under his skin.

He was good looking for a vampire. His pastel skin blended with the mousy brown, almost grey hair, but his features were masculine and toned. He wore shorts, and no shirt. Jace could see a faint scar that crossed over his chest as if it had never healed properly. For a vampire it must have been a pretty serious injury.

"Cool your head, Jack," Blair said casually. She walked into the kitchen, Jace following, the vampire sauntering in after them. "He's actually the one taking me home." Blair moved to get a drink of something from a cupboard. It looked like a faery drink – a purple permanganate colour.

Jack had gone rigid all over. "They're detaining you?"

"Not quite. They're just 'interested' in me," she told him, making quotation marks in the air.

"What did you do?" He sounded exasperated, as if he'd been expecting it.

"Nothing," Blair answered quickly. "Jace just saw my mark."

Suddenly a pixie girl with green skin, black eyes and long floaty wings entered the room, wearing very little. Blair gave her a glance, then looked at Jack, "A pixie, really, Jack?"

"Who are you?" the pixie asked in an offended tone, her voice squeaky and high.

"I live with Jack," Blair told her, sounding bored.

"A mundane?" the pixie asked, looking at Jack.

Blair shrugged. But the moment she did, her glamour fell away.

Jace was stunned and took a quick step back.

The plain mundane face was gone, replaced with the Angel's beauty.

She was silver. Her skin such a soft shade of silver it looked as if she were moonlight itself. Her eyes were no longer a dull grey, but a hard red, like fresh blood. They seemed to swim, like a small lake. Her hair was a dark black, but it looked like oil as in the changing light colours flickered thorough it. Her lips and nails looked translucent, as if they were made of diamond. She had the face of a faery, her features delicate, looking like porcelain. The scars were still there, but now they were the same crimson as her eyes, and they stood out like birthmarks that only made her more beautiful rather than looking like an imperfection. She still wore the same jeans but the jacket was replaced with a shirt without a back to show off her wings. The black matched her hair and contrasted her skin and eyes. And then, there were her wings. Long and delicate, like spider webs weaved over a translucent frame of cherry red. They ever so softly fluttered as if just moving with a breeze.

The pixie shrank back. "You," she breathed. "The queen… I… you… I need to leave," the pixie stuttered. Then, she spun and ran out of the house, muttering apologies to Jack, and stopping momentarily to get her clothes.

Jace realised that it wasn't just confidence that radiated from Blair, but it was her intense power. She was right. She was strong. He could feel it pulsing from her.

Then, the faery Blair disappeared and the glamour was up again.

"Great. You always have to scare them off, don't you?" Jack said, sounding irritated. He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. No one offered Jace anything. In fact, no one had even introduced him.

"Oh please, she was stupid pixie," Blair said, unconcerned. "And you don't seem all that cut up about it anyway."

Jace nodded towards Blair. "Are you notorious?"

"I told you I knew the Seelie Queen, and I told you she was a bitch. Did you think we left on good terms after she took my sisters hostage in order to get me to join her court?"

"Is that what happened?"

"I'm part Shadowhunter. Sure, fey hate you guys, but if she was able to drag me to her side, I would become her powerful tool. She knew that. And she knew how to get it."

"She took your sisters?" Jace asked.

"Yeah, I traded their safety for my service." Darkness fell over Blair's voice. Her face looked disgusted. In fact, for a moment, complete devastation took hold of her expression. Then it was gone. "I just wasn't entirely sure of what my services would entail."

Jack's face grew worried and anxious. "Blair," he warned. Jace wondered what he was warning her of.

"After Jack got me out of the court, it was too late anyway. Dee had become a werewolf and Nat had joined a vampire coven. They both did it out of fear or the fey, but it doesn't comfort me. So, I sought my own protection. And found it with Jack." Blair looked at Jace, slightly uncomfortable. "I'll get a bag."

Jace saw her pack a few items of clothing, toiletries and gadgets. But mostly he watched her pack books. She packed three science books, two math, some writing paper, pens and other various fiction books. "Do you really need all that?" Jace asked.

"I like science and math," she answered simply.

"You live in the Downworld, but you like mundane science and math."

"No, I like _interesting_ science and math."

Jack leaned in the doorframe. "She's a freak. You'll get used to it. How long are you going to be gone anyway, loser?"

Jace wasn't sure of who he was talking to for a moment. Blair answered. She stopped moving for a moment, and didn't turn to face Jack, instead talking into her bag. "I don't know. As long as they want me."

Jace noticed that their relationship was casual and friendly, but there was something more serious underneath. They trusted each other more than anything in the world. They weren't together in the sense of love, but they were together in the sense that they wouldn't ever trust anyone else as much as they did each other. At that moment, Blair gave a pointed look at Jace. "You actually have more insight than I first realised," she said to him.

"I'm just full of surprises," he said wryly.

Blair looked him up and down, "I don't doubt that."

Jace wasn't sure if she was flirting or not. She was hard to read. But why would she, when she knew that Jace was taken.

"Don't be pathetic, Blair," Jack said casually. "You know he's in love."

"How do you know that?" Jace asked, suddenly outraged.

Jack smiled evilly. He put up his wrist, showing off the silver tattoo. "I took in a little of her magic, and she took in a little of mine."

"You're not magical," Jace said on reflex.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll put it in simpler terms, _Shadowhunter. _Blair now has the same healing power of any vampire. I can now walk in daylight, and read emotions. Not nearly as well as her, of course, but I can get the general gist. And I can tell you're in love." Jack then looked at Blair. "So don't tease the poor boy. It's not fair on his girlfriend." He paused. Then, an after thought, "Or boyfriend."

"Girlfriend," Jace said quietly, venom in his tone.

Blair tipped her head. "I don't like her anyway."

Jace's jaw snapped shut. "Because you are _so _likable," he shot at her sarcastically. Blair smiled slyly, the jibe washing off her without the intended effect. Her composed manner was irritating Jace no end.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

Jace only nodded.

With Blair's bags around her shoulders, they moved to the front door. In the living room Blair took a small piece of carved wood from a low table near the door.

"What's that?" Jace asked.

Blair smiled surreptitiously. "Just a small reminder of home." She slipped it into her pocket and walked outside.

Blair nodded goodbye to Jack as he waited on the front doorstep, and he gave a curt wave. He stared at her as she began to walk away. Jace thought he heard Jack whisper something, but he didn't catch it. For a moment, Blair's step faltered when Jack whispered under his breath, but she kept walking. Jace sighed. Blair was already crossing the street, but as Jace moved to follow her, Jack caught his elbow. Jace stiffened.

"She has a ridiculously high pain threshold," Jack said softly. "It's almost killed her a number of times. Just, when she gets injured, watch her. She can look and act fine, but could be fatally wounded."

"You want me to look after her?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to do anyway, Shadowhunter?"

"I just seemed to get the vibe that Blair wasn't one who wanted looking out for."

"And that's the problem."

* * *

"I'll take you to a room you can stay in while you're here," Jace said as he began to navigate through the halls of the Institute.

"And here I was thinking you'd take me to a room I wasn't going to stay in," Blair answered sarcastically. She sounded uninterested.

Jace ignored it. When they reached the room, Jace held the door open for Blair. She waited for a second, then brushed past Jace with a sultry smile, whispering, "What do you know, chivalry isn't dead. Just in the form of a golden eyed boy."

Jace was momentarily stunned, but felt guilty at the same time. He knew it was irrational to feel guilt, considering he hadn't done anything, but it was there anyway.

Blair dropped her bags on the floor, not bothering to even look at the wardrobe or drawers. Jace didn't realise he was staring until Blair smiled and said, "Are you waiting for an invite? The bed is a double."

Jace looked away and staggered back. Blair just laughed at his unease. She was shrugging off her jacket as Jace mumbled, "I have to go. I'll wake you in the morning." He turned to leave.

"I'll be waiting," she teased. Jace shut the door.

* * *

Who was this girl? And how was it possible that he couldn't stop thinking about her without her glamour? Every time he blinked that image of the silver faery was imprinted on his eyelids. She was definitely the most beautiful faery he'd ever seen. Jace wondered if it was because she had Shadowhunter blood?

It was a trap. On so many levels Jace wished he'd never seen Blair in her fey form. But in his subconscious, he was fully aware how desperate he was to just stare at that seductive silver magic.

He knew it was the fey magic, not any real attraction to Blair. He loved Clary after all. But that magic was so alluring. No wonder humans were tricked so easily into fey courts. Their magic was addictive.

Jace began walking back to his room. He tried to picture Clary in his mind. He hated that Blair's wings dazzled her image. When he reached his room he fell into bed, suddenly exhausted. His clock said it was just past four. He closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he was dreaming of moonlit faeries splattered with blood.


	6. Valentine's War A Year Ago

**Chapter 6**

_**Valentine's War - A Year Ago**_

"_The shadowhunters are calling for help. There's a war between Valentine's demon armies and the Shadowhunters in Alicante." Blair's voice was sober. _

"_Of which neither of us are concerned," Jack said. _

"_Raphael is going to fight. He's taking his coven with him. Luke is taking his pack too. Both of my sisters will be fighting. Now tell me that I'm not involved with this war." Blair was challenging him. _

"_So what do you intend to do? Just walk to the Shadowhunters and say, 'hey, I'm one of you, mind if I just join in?' " Jack looked at Blair meaningfully. "They won't have you."_

"_They will if I'm with a fey court."_

_Jack froze. "No." His voice was acid terror. "I will not let you suffer again. Last time you were in a fey court they…" Jack broke off, as if he were in pain. "They almost killed you. And if you show them how strong – how powerful – you are, they'll just want to use you. You'll die."_

"_What about my sisters?" Now Blair looked pained. _

_Jack sighed. "It'll all blow over. Valentine can't win. He just can't."_

"_That doesn't mean my sisters won't get hurt!" Blair sounded desperate. _

"_You can't go back to the Seelie Court!" Jack yelled. _

_There was silence, both Jack and Blair panting, fury obvious in their features._

"_I'm leaving," Blair said finally. She spun, ready to run. Then something stopped her in her tracks._

"Ancilla Dextra Perdita_," Jack's words were ice in Blair's heart. She didn't think he'd ever use her full name. "You will not go to Alicante to fight in Valentine's war. You will not go back to a fey court. You will stay in New York until this war ends."_

_Blair turned on Jack. "I will never forgive you." Then she brushed past him as she left the house. _

_Jack only felt guilt and self-loathing. He'd promised he would never ever control her like that. Use her full name when she had trusted him with it. But it was for her safety. And while he hated himself for it, he would've hated himself more if he hadn't._


	7. Serpents

**Chapter 7**

Blair didn't sleep. She wasn't able to.

She just lay in the unfamiliar bed trying to ignore the dreams coming from near-by rooms. Alec had Magnus on his mind. Isabelle wasn't dreaming, just flitting in and out of snippets of memories. Maryse was dreaming of her son. Blair figured he was dead, as her dream was full of grief. Her husband was having a similar nightmare. Jace was dreaming of fey. Not of her, thank god, but of blood fey. Blair may have flirted, but Jace held nothing but fear for her.

Blair was too scared to sleep. Her hands were shaking as she stared at the roof. She sat, not needing to turn on a light, her eyes seeing perfectly. In the mirror her wings caught the most light, looking like neon signs. She felt like a red light hooker.

The Clave. She didn't want to know the Clave. She wasn't interested in finding her parents. Her parents would always be her adoptive human parents. As her real sisters would always be her adoptive human (well, now vampire and werewolf) sisters - even if Nat was going though a rebellious stage. Although, to be honest, Blair had a feeling this rebellion – which included sleeping with the sleazy Raphael – was simply to spite her.

Anger surged though her, and she quickly dispelled it through magic in her fingers.

She missed Jack. She just wanted to hear his voice. Now, all she could think of was the Seelie Court. And things she didn't want to think about. She never wanted even imagine that complete lack of control of her own self ever again; to have no say in what happened to you. She never wanted to be that again. At someone's mercy so much so that nothing mattered but hating them and pleasing them all at the same time. She shuddered just remembering it.

Before she knew it, she had her cell out and was dialing Jack's number. He picked up almost instantly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, immediately fearful.

"Yeah, I can't sleep, that's all."

"Lie down," Jack said to her calmly. "I'll read to you."

Blair did as she was told, as Jack began reciting poetry he'd memorised when he was a child. It calmed Blair as she listened, not taking in his words, just his voice.

"Are you asleep?" Jack asked after a time. Blair was awake, but she didn't answer. She heard Jack sigh through the phone. She expected him to hang up, but before he did he said softly, "I'll miss you. And if you can get away, please do. I need to see you one more time before you leave. Goodnight." And then, there was the dial tone.

Blair still couldn't sleep; so instead, she got up, and busied herself with meaningless things. Still, she couldn't help but think about the emotion Jack had felt, but she couldn't taste.

* * *

When Jace knocked on Blair's door that morning, he wasn't really sure what he expected to see, except what he actually did see. Blair didn't even open the door for him; it just seemed to swing open for her. She was wrapped in a towel, clothes everywhere. It looked as though a ravaner demon had had lunch in her room.

"Did I miss the attack on all modern civilisation?" Jace asked.

"Huh?" Blair questioned. She was twirling around the room looking at clothes and dancing to some pulsing guitar in the background.

"Your room. There must be a talent in getting it this messy in such a short space of time."

"To be fair, I didn't sleep last night, so I had extra time on my hands."

"You didn't sleep?"

"Yeah, I dream when I'm stressed, and I didn't want to dream, so I didn't sleep."

"That actually makes sense to me. I should be scared."

Blair laughed. "I suppose."

"Maryse has made us breakfast. Get dressed and I'll take you down to the kitchen."

"What about the Clave?"

"You'll have to talk to Maryse."

Blair and Jace walked to the kitchen in silence. The silence wasn't awkward, but it was strange. Blair seemed irritated, rather than her usual laid-back manner. It was Blair who broke the silence, "Why doesn't Clary live with you?"

"Because she lives with her mother."

"She's a Shadowhunter, isn't she?"

"Yes. But her story is… complicated."

"It seems everyone has a complicated story," Blair said. She seemed bored.

* * *

They reached the kitchen, Jace holding the door open for her. All conversation ended and only the sound of bacon sizzling was heard. Blair stopped, sweeping her gaze around the room at Maryse, Isabelle and Alec.

Blair could taste all their emotions easily. Alec was cautious and wary. Isabelle irritated. Maryse seemed confused. Blair didn't understand why. Jace was studying her with intrigue; Blair hated that. Blair sat breezily at one of the chairs at the table, leaning back and tipping her head in Maryse's direction.

"So. The Clave?" she asked.

"The Inquisitor will be here tonight," Maryse said, her voice tight.

And then, the emotions Blair could taste in the room shifted. Everyone felt the same. To Blair, it tasted like stale air, or the pages of an old book. Anxiety and fear. Stiff and cold.

"Okay, what's so terrible about the Inquisitor? Apart from a name that's literally been pulled out of a marvel comic," Blair asked.

Jace sat stiffly next to her. "We've had bad experiences with the Inquisitor," he said under his breath.

"You mean the Clave isn't as perfect as everyone seems to think?" Blair asked in mock incredulity. "Holy moly, superman, whatever will we do?"

"What's superman?" Alec asked.

Blair tipped her head in exasperation. "Gee, Shadowhunter children are deprived." She didn't explain further.

"You should keep your tongue in check for the Inquisitor, Blair," Maryse warned.

"He won't put up with sarcasm."

"Do you really believe that's all I offer?" Blair asked jokingly. "I can do impressions and political satire, too."

"That," Jace said at her, "is exactly what Maryse is referring too."

Blair rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll be nice for your Inquisitor. It's not like I can lie anyway."

Blair could taste the doubt that surrounded each of them. She shrugged it away.

Maryse handed plates or bacon, eggs and toast around. Blair took one look at the food, her jaw clenching and pushed it away from her. "I can't eat that," she said.

"Why not?" Isabelle asked.

"It's meat. And eggs. I don't eat that." Blair looked sickened.

"You live with a vampire, but you have a problem with bacon?" Jace asked.

"Well, as long as I'm not eating _him_, it's not really a problem," she muttered.

"We have cereal," Maryse told her. She sounded frustrated.

Blair shrugged. "I'm not that hungry anyway." She stood, as if sitting annoyed her. "So, what am I supposed to do until this Inquisitor comes?"

"We're going hunting," Jace said. "You could join us if you wanted." There was a challenge in his voice.

Blair smirked. "But you don't trust me."

"Well, if we need a decoy, we'll use you."

Blair's smile only increased. "I'm in."

Maryse seemed wary. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Can you fight? Do you have any training?"

Blair shrugged. "I can hold my own."

Maryse was reluctant, but she said, "Jace, you must look after her. I don't want the Inquisitor to come all the way down to New York for a dead teenager."

* * *

"Do you have anything to wear?" Isabelle asked Blair as the two girls and Alec went to the weapons room. Jace had gone to pick up Clary.

"This?" Blair said, pointing at her jeans and t-shirt.

Isabelle shook her head. "You can't wear that."

"I'm not wearing Shadowhunter gear. No way."

"Why not?" Alec asked.

"Because I'm not a Shadowhunter and I don't want to look like a Shadowhunter," she answered simply.

"You need protection," Isabelle argued.

"No. I don't. I'll be fine."

"Then what weapon do you want?" Alec asked as they entered the weapons room.

"I have my own."

Isabelle turned to look at her. "What?"

"It's a fey weapon," Blair said. From the back pocket of her jeans she pulled out a small carved piece of wood. It was what she'd taken just before leaving her house.

Alec took one look at it and said, "Is that it?"

"Do you know nothing of the world you live in?" Blair asked rhetorically. "Is anything as it seems?" Isabelle and Alec stayed silent. Blair put her left hand around the centre of the intricate carving, and in an instant the weapon slid to its full length. It was a long quarterstaff, made of a deep ash wood. It extended to almost the same height as Blair herself, and she had to hold it in both hands. The original carved piece was simply a handle for the long staff. She spun it once, easily in her hands, then the staff retracted and she put it back in her pocket. "Still, can I have a blade? I've always liked Shadowhunter blades."

"Sure," Alec said resentfully. Blair only smirked. She ended up taking two blades, slipping them into her boots. She also asked if she could mark her right hand with the weapon rune. Alec and Isabelle said no immediately. Blair had just shrugged.

But as they were leaving, Isabelle noticed something. "How, did you…?" On both hands was the open eye rune.

"You aren't very observant," Blair said easily.

"Or maybe you just use your magic inappropriately," Alec said. "You can't just steal someone's stele in order to unlawfully mark yourself."

"First of all, I only borrowed your stele. If you happened not to notice it's hardly my fault. And second of all, 'unlawfully'? Who are you trying to impress?"

Finally, Alec snapped. He shot out a hand at Blair, aiming to push her against the wall. Blair caught Alec's hand easily by the wrist with speed so fast he'd sworn he'd seen snakes strike slower. Her face was calm. She didn't speak. "Everyone has had about enough of you," Alec told her, voice threatening.

Blair shrugged and dropped Alec's wrist. It didn't hurt, surprisingly; she hadn't used any real force on him. He wondered if it was out of mercy or consideration. She said simply, "You were the ones who brought me here. I'm your problem now. If only you'd let me live the way I'd been happily living before, there wouldn't be any trouble. It's your fault."

* * *

Jace paced on Clary's front doorstep, waiting for her to answer. He hoped that Jocelyn or Luke wouldn't open the door. It would be awkward. Luckily it was Clary who answered. "You ready?" he asked her.

She nodded and called, "Luke! I'm going with Jace now."

"Okay," he called back from somewhere in the house.

Clary shut the door behind her and – was suddenly pressed up against it, Jace's hands around her waist, on her back, his lips on hers. Jace held her against him as if she were going to run away. He kept trying to blot out that image of Blair. Of her with silver skin and crimson eyes. Of her dancing in the room with a towel. He kissed Clary harder and she pulled him into her. _Forget Blair,_ he told himself. But when all he could see was her image, he pulled harshly away from Clary. She looked dazed for a moment, then worried. "Are you okay?" she asked, touching his face. Jace involuntarily jerked away. He was angry. Not at Clary. At Blair. At himself.

"Fine," he muttered. "Let's go."

* * *

Once everyone was ready – Isabelle in Shadowhunter gear, her whip at her waist, and bangles jingling at her wrists, Alec, a bow strapped to his back and a guisarme on his hip, Blair wearing her casual clothes – they caught the subway together and met Clary and Jace. Simon also joined them after a pleading call from Isabelle. He took one look at Blair and said, "You're still here?"

"Hey," Blair smiled in recognition, "the cute vampire with the mark."

"The one and only," Simon answered dryly. "Are you coming hunting?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Because we don't know you."

"Don't worry. If I plan to kill one of you, I'll give warning."

"Oh, well, that's okay then," Simon said sarcastically. Blair smiled.

Once they were all together on the train and heading somewhere Blair wasn't familiar with, Alec began explaining the situation.

"There have been reports of demon activity in an abandoned train line. Some humans have said they've seen strange things-"

"And you don't think that they might have been hallucinating?" Blair asked. Everyone turned to look at her. "Seriously, who do you think hangs out in an abandoned subway tunnel? Drunks and druggies. The humans were probably just hallucinating."

"Or," Isabelle said defensively, "it could be demons." Blair rolled her eyes, muttered something about 'reality and the real world' under her breath and sunk low in her seat.

"I want you," Alec said, motioning to Blair, "to watch. Stay back from the fight and keep a distance. We don't know your skill and we don't-"

"Trust me?" Blair suggested.

"Don't want you to get hurt," Alec finished, seemingly fed up with Blair's attitude.

"Honestly, I think Clary's had less experience and training than I have, and yet I'm the one who has to stay back?"

"That's irrelevant," Jace said so low it was almost a growl.

Blair flicked her head toward him. Then, she grinned. "Didn't mean to offend," she said breezily. "But I do like a man who defends a girl's honour. It's cute. Pathetically cute." Tension filled up the space around the group.

"You've no idea what Clary's been through. What all of us have been through. You've no right to treat us with the complete disrespect you seem to feel is socially acceptable." Jace's voice was confident and strong.

Blair's face changed, her lazy manner disappearing. "What? You mean losing parents?" She asked, looking pointedly at Jace. "Losing siblings?" Her gaze moved to Isabelle and Alec. "Having my whole life destroyed?" Her eyes stopped on Clary. "Being turned into something you hate?" She tipped her head at Simon. "And the whole time, being completely alone in the world." This time she swept her eyes over each of the teenagers. Then, her voice strangely blank, with thick sarcasm, she said, "No. You're right. I could never understand what all of you went through."

* * *

They reached the station and got off together in a herd. No one noticed them, mostly because they were invisible, but also because the people that were getting off at this station didn't want to see anything. And they didn't want anyone to see them. The place was dingy, and dubious, reminding Blair of the fey courts she resented so much.

"Here," Alec said, pointing to a small alcove, with a metal door jammed into it. Blair was strong, but the smell of the iron still made her feel a little nauseous. Alec unlocked the door with a simple opening rune and signalled for everyone to follow. Inside, they had to proceed in single file, as the tunnel was too narrow. There were no lights, so Jace who was at the front, and Alec, at the back, both had witchlights out and shining. Iron surrounded them, and Blair threw up a stronger glamour to ward off the iron sickness. She wouldn't have been surprised if _she_ were glowing brighter than the witchlight. The tunnel obviously had a maintenance/operating function as wires and various signs reading WARNING and RISK were scattered everywhere. Beneath their feet was a metal grate they were walking over, and the sound of soft water from somewhere to the left of them. Finally, they reached another door, which Jace opened, and the light of train tunnels fell in. They all came out of the tunnel and onto the cold dimly lit train tracks.

"I sure hope no trains come our way," Simon said. Old beer cans, coke bottles and various other litter was scattered over the tracks and graffiti covered the walls.

The stench of demons filled Blair's mouth. Alec reached for his Sensor. "You don't need that," Blair said. "I can tell you right now that demons have absolutely been down here. In fact…" She swore she could taste the outline of charred burnt followed the scent and found what she was looking for. A pentagram. "Someone's been busy," she said, pointing at her feet, as Jace and Clary moved to her. "Know of anyone who's summoning demons?"

As soon as she said it, she wished she hadn't. One word came to everyone's mind. A word that was sweet and sour on Blair's tongue all at once. Valentine. Of course it wasn't Valentine who'd been summoning these demons, but just the thought brought back memories. The painfully memories of everyone around Blair stung her.

Jace inspected the pentagram more carefully reading the writing around it. "I think… I think its Hebrew," he said. "I can't read it."

"Who ever did this, likes irony," Blair said.

Jace looked at her carefully. "So you did it then?"

Blair smiled that knowing smirk Jace hated. "It's from the Bible. The writing."

"You can read Hebrew?" Alec asked.

Blair shrugged. "I suppose."

"How can someone summon demons with the Bible?" Isabelle asked.

Blair laughed. "Tell me, were would demons be, without the Bible?"

"What are you talking about?" This was Simon.

"Would God exist to us if the Bible hadn't been written? Sure, he may have existed, but no one would know about him. Don't you think it's the same with demons? If no one had written about demons, no one would know about them. They might've been there, but that's irrelevant. Fiction in where genius lies."

"So what does it say then?" Clary asked.

Blair looked down, took a breath, sucking in the words, and recited them, eyes closed. "_There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them, and the same become mighty men which were of old, men of renown._"

"Sons of God? Angels," Alec said, looking to Blair. "And men. It's a passage about Nephilim."

"And the giants? They're supposed to be demons?" Isabelle asked.

Blair shrugged. "I read. I don't interpret. Especially the Bible. All too confusing to me."

"So what kind of demons would someone summon with a passage from the Bible that talks about the creation of Shadowhunters and demons?" Clary looked at Jace, who was slowly standing from the crouch he was in.

"And the Greek? What does the Greek say?" Jace asked.

Blair could easily taste the Greek scripture on the pentagram too. "You assume I can read Ancient Greek too?" she asked.

"You can read runes and Hebrew, why not Greek?" Jace said with complete confidence.

Blair huffed. "_Ye serpants, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?_"

"That doesn't sound good," Simon said.

"I think it's been taken out of context," Blair said.

"What do you mean?" Alec asked.

"I think here it has been taken literally, whereas in the Bible it probably means something different."

"It's another Bible passage?" Clary asked.

Blair rolled her eyes, as if suddenly frustrated. "Yes. Hebrew, the first testament. Greek, the new testament. I thought you Shadowhunters were all up on your Bible knowledge." No one responded to the jibe.

Simon just said, "Someone's done their research into this."

"And what did you mean by a literal translation?" Isabelle asked.

"I mean, that someone's summoning serpents from the damnation of hell, for one purpose," Blair said, her voice suddenly grim.

"What's that?" Jace asked.

She spun on him and smirked. "To destroy Shadowhunters."


	8. Demons

**Chapter 8**

"Oh, great. Because we need another one of those," Simon said, leaning back against the wall of the subway. It was freezing in the tunnel, but he was only wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

Blair suddenly spun, signalling for everyone to be quiet. "Demons," she said. "Two of them. One from each end of the tunnel. I think… Oni demons." She turned to Alec. "Where do you want me?"

Alec immediately went in to warrior mode. "Blair, against the wall. Isabelle, Jace, at this end," he said, pointing to one end of the tunnel. "Simon, Clary, you're with me on this side." The four Shadowhunters and one vampire lined up, back to back, a few metres away from each other, facing the darkness. Alec threw his bow to Simon, while he brought out his own guisarme.

There was silence.

"Are you sure, Blair?" Isabelle asked.

She just nodded. "I can hear them. Just wait."

"Yeah," Simon said, "I can hear them now too."

"Hearing better than a vampire?" Jace asked, still facing away.

"What can I say, fey and Shadowhunter blood bond well," Blair said.

No one answered, instead everyone just waited.

Isabelle had her whip out and glinting. Jace held a long sword and Clary spun daggers in each hand. Blair watched them with intrigue.

Then, the Oni demons struck. They flew out of the darkness screeching, throwing themselves at the Shadowhunters. Their green skin seemed to wobble around them, their huge jaws and fangs gnashing. Simon shot the first demon in the shoulder, but it kept running at him as if nothing had struck it. Simon drew his bow again, the arrow hitting the demon in the chest. It seemed irritated, and threw a clawed hand out at Simon's face, spinning him to the ground, his bow falling out of reach. The demon was about to strike Simon again, when it became preoccupied with Alec, who had begun twirling his guisarme at it. Simon scrambled to his feet, grabbing at his bow, and taking a quick glance at Isabelle and Jace.

On the other side of the battle Isabelle had spun out her whip, the end flicking around the second Oni demon's feet. She flipped it on it's back as it thrashed. Jace darted forward and was about to strike down with his sword, but the demon managed to grasp his ankle and send him flying. He landed on his back, rolling and jumping into a crouch, before moving forward again. He only vaguely noticed the pain in his shoulder; adrenaline was dulling the initial sting. The Oni demon had jumped up, Isabelle slashing her whip at its chest. It jumped back, surprisingly fast for an Oni demon.

Then, she screamed.

Simon had been flung against the tunnel, and was slumped on the ground in a bad angle. Isabelle began to run to him, but the Oni demon saw his chance and clawed at her back. Isabelle tried to turn to defend herself, but blood was quickly spreading over her upper back, claw marks ripping through her skin from her right shoulder to small of her back. She lashed out with her whip, but her shoulder was too weak to have any effect. The whip slapped the Oni demon lightly and fell to the floor. Isabelle dropped the whip, instead reaching with her left hand for a dagger at her waist. The Oni demon was too fast, and slashed at Isabelle's face. She managed to pull away, but the demon's claws still scraped over her throat. She cried out in surprise, just as Jace lunged forward and swung his blade at the demon. It turned to defend itself just as Isabelle fell to her knees, loss of blood draining her face to a pale white.

Alec suddenly enraged, lashed out at the demon he was fighting, stabbing it in the heart with his weapon. It paused for a moment, and then disappeared like a balloon of water that had just been popped. Alec ran to Isabelle, as Clary bolted to Simon.

Jace was dealing with the last Oni demon, and seemed to be handling it. Until, the Oni demon wasn't in front of him anymore. Jace, momentarily stunned, spun on his heel, to find the demon only inches behind. _What kind of demon magic is this?_ he had time to think before the demon knocked the sword out of his hand. The Oni demon grabbed Jace by the throat and pinned him against a wall. It was whispering soft Japanese in his mouth as its jaws got closer to his face. Jace lashed out with a small dagger he'd be holding in his right hand, but it struck nothing but the wall behind him.

Alec had scratched a healing rune on Isabelle's back, and already her wounds were closing over. She fluttered her eyes open and said, "Simon." Simon was waking, his vampire immune system healing him. Clary helped him to his feet.

"Simon's fine," Alec told Isabelle. She nodded and tried to stand. She was wobbly on her feet from loss of blood, and Alec helped her up.

Clary finally turned to see Jace pinned by the throat against the wall of the tunnel. And in that moment, before anyone had time to react and just as Jace's throat was beginning to burn, the Oni demon's eyes went blank, and it fell away from Jace, sinking to it's knees, then falling on it's side. From it's dead position on the floor, Jace could see why the demon had fallen away. It had a seraph blade protruding from its neck, perfectly thrown to kill instantly. If the aim had been out by even an inch it would have killed Jace. He was astounded. There was silence. The demon disappeared into itself and everyone turned to Blair, who was leaning easily against the concrete of the subway walls. "It was saying some very rude things, Jace. I was defending your honour."

"You were supposed to watch," Alec growled.

"I did watch. I watched my knife fly through the air and kill the demon," she shrugged.

"You could've killed Jace," Clary said, moving to him.

"No, my aim is brilliant."

"That was dangerous, Blair, even for you." This was Isabelle.

"The demon was threatening to rip out Jace's neck, alright. I believe the words you're looking for are, 'I saved his life'."

"You speak Japanese too?" Jace asked.

"A little," Blair said, looking uncomfortable.

"How?"

"I can taste language the same why I taste runes. Meanings of words come to me before I can actually understand the script."

"Big picture please," Isabelle said, sounding exasperated. "Those Oni demons weren't normal demons. The one that hit me, it moved faster than I've seen any demon move."

"Yeah, I got one of them in the chest with an arrow, and nothing happened," Simon said.

"Do you know anything about it?" Alec asked Blair.

"No. But I bet he does," she answered, pointing down the tunnel.

Everyone turned to look where Blair was gesturing, just as a human stumbled into their view. He was obviously drunk, tripping over his own feet, wearing a large trench coat and an over grown beard. He looked up, as if only just noticing the bloodied armed teens. "Are you real?" he asked in a slurred voice.

"What would he know?" Clary asked. "He's just a mundane."

Blair smirked and walked past Alec and Isabelle, to the human. "You know anything about the pentagram?" she asked, pointing behind her, were the ground was burnt.

"I don't know what you're talking about?" the human said.

Then, in one slick movement Blair had her staff out and extended in front of her body. The human didn't react at first, then, suddenly; in its hands were two long single edged swords. The human – that everyone realised wasn't a human, but a shape-shifting demon – began swinging the blades at Blair, his black trench coat flicking around him like an evil overlord. She responded so quickly, deflecting the blows easily without missing a beat.

For a few minutes she only defended herself, without striking out, her movements fluid and graceful, her face so confident and relaxed it would seem as if she just had a good poker hand. The Shadowhunters and Simon watched in awe, completely surprised and shocked by her obvious skill. Where Blair's movements were flowing and elegant, the demon was sharp and stuttery, his posture slumped into darkness.

Then, the demon made a mistake. One of his swords didn't come down at the right angle, and Blair knocked it aside with one end of her staff, then flicking the other end around the demon's feet, knocking him to the ground. One of his swords slipped out his reach, and Blair, faster than the demon, kicked the second away, and literally stood on his chest, one end of her staff against his throat. At the same time Blair's glamour slipped away, revealing her silver skin glinting the dark, her crimson wings extended powerfully behind her. Jace heard Alec, Isabelle, Clary and Simon all gasp in unison. Jace wanted to turn away.

The demon stopped thrashing.

It looked as if Blair was only lightly standing upon the demon, but it was evident that she was applying a lot of pressure, as the demon struggling to breathe.

"So, you know anything about the pentagram?" she was almost polite in her demand.

"A warlock," the demon gasped out.

"Yes," Blair said calmly. "I know. I could taste that. But was the warlock hired, or was she the one organising it?"

"Hired. Hired." The demon was pleading with her. Bruising was beginning around the demon's neck, where Blair had her wooden staff pressed.

"By who?" The demon didn't answer. "You know," Blair began, "this staff, is called a quarterstaff. In medieval times, when someone was to 'give quarter' it meant to give mercy, or pity, to pardon a defeated opponent. This is where my staff got its name. Because it's a less lethal weapon." Blair paused for a moment, and looked into the eyes of the demon. "But trust me when I say I'm a surgeon with this weapon, and it very rarely shows mercy."

"I don't know!" the demon shouted out. "I swear to you, I don't know who hired the warlock."

"You're promises mean nothing to me, but you're just lucky I can taste the truth in your words. Is there anyone who _does_ know who it was that hired this warlock?"

"The warlock does," the demon gagged. "I can give you a name. Lanka. Lanka Renale."

Blair waited for a moment, and then released the pressure from the demon's neck. She stepped down from his chest, retrieving one of his swords. The demon was still lying over the tracks, just watching Blair's silver form. "I've heard of you," he said. Blair turned slowly, twisting the sword in her right hand.

"Is that so?"

"You're the fey slave," he said, menace in his voice.

Blair regarded him carefully, then stood over him, waiting, the sword in her hand facing down towards the demon. After a few moments she said, "Yes. I suppose you're right." And she let go of the demon's sword. It fell slowly and gracefully, a lot like her fighting style, and embedded itself into the demon's chest. For a moment, it looked stunned, eyes wide, as if it hadn't expected to have its own sword pierce his heart by the faery girl. Then, it folded in on itself and disappeared.

Blair took a breath, replaced her glamour and turned to face everyone. "I suggest we find Lanka Renale."

"Who trained you?" Alec breathed out, his tone an accusation.

Blair looked confused. "No one trained me. I had to learn how to fight out of self-preservation. If I didn't defend myself, I'd be dead. And, by the way, these runes rock." She showed the open eye rune on the back of her hands. They were glowing. "I kicked ass." She grinned. "And with the demon wearing the trench coat, it felt like I fighting Neo. Ironic we happened to be in the subway. Only, if Neo had died at that point in the story, well, the rest of the movie would've been pretty boring. I mean, what would the Matrix be without Smith's anti-human speech. _'Humans are a disease.'_"

"I totally agree," Simon said. "But also, the Matrix would be nothing without _'Mr. Anderson'._"

The impression was almost perfect. Blair was impressed. "Wow, you'd make an awesome Agent Smith."

Simon beamed. "Thanks."

Everyone turned to him. Clary sighed and said, "The Matrix."

"The what?" Jace asked.

"I was making an inter-textual reference to the well known movie _The Matrix_," Blair explained with a roll of her eyes. "Brilliant film. Everyone should see it."

"Yeah, a cult classic," Simon filled in.

"Changed my view on reality," Blair told them.

"But finding out you weren't human was just… what? An interesting occurrence?" Jace asked her.

"No. The Matrix changed my outlook on life. Finding out I wasn't human simply ruined my life. See the difference," she said with a fake smile.

"I'll call Magnus. See if he knows of a Lenka Renale," Alec said, giving up on the conversation. He moved away, flipping up his cell phone. Jace took out his sensor and inspected the pentagram. Simon and Clary were fussing over Isabelle, who clearly didn't want to be fussed over.

Blair sat on the stone ground and stared at the rusted iron tracks. The smell stung her nose, but she didn't move away. Exposure helped build up a resistance. It was all about self-control. Blair remembered her physics classes two years ago. She'd learnt about iron. It was strong under compression and tension stresses. That's why they used it for railway lines. The only problem was that it corroded. That was her chemistry classes. Redox reactions. The iron ions went through oxidation.

God, she missed school. Science and math. She'd had a best friend. Mark. She missed him too. Wondered what kind of person he was now. She'd always gotten on with boys better than girls. Was never sure why. She guessed it was because she didn't understand girls. It had never bothered her.

"Magnus doesn't know the name, but he said he should be able to track him down," Alec told everyone, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

"Her," Blair interjected.

"What?"

"The warlock. It's a girl. The name is comes from Galenka. Means that God shall redeem."

"And I suppose you could taste all this?" Alec sighed.

"Of course."

"Magnus suggested we all go his place," Alec said.

"Sounds like the best option before we contact anyone else," Isabelle said reasonably.

"Great. Magnus is someone I actually like," Blair muttered as she stood and made her way back to the tunnel. Everyone watched her for a moment, then followed.

* * *

As soon as Magnus opened the door, his eyes skipped over the Shadowhunters and landed on Blair. He didn't even glance at Alec.

"They found you," he said.

"Unfortunately," Blair shrugged as she slipped past the group standing on the front door step of Magnus's apartment and went inside without invitation.

Magnus ushered everyone else in. Alec stopped him, grabbing his hand before he could follow. Magnus had bright pink in his hair today, wearing a tight leather jacket that seemed to change colour in the light and bright blue flared pants.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Alec asked Magnus.

"Because she didn't want me to."

"And she's more important to you than I am?"

Magnus was suddenly angry. "Don't guilt trip me, Alec. She deserves the life she wants. Not one forced on her by the Clave. Especially after what she's been through."

Magnus pulled away from Alec, leaving him standing in the doorway. Alec felt guilty, but he didn't understand where the sudden anger came from.

Magnus made a table and few chairs appear out of nowhere and invited everyone to sit. Only Blair declined, instead sitting on top of the bar that was in the corner of the living room.

"So, Lenka Renale?" Jace asked.

"I'd never heard of her, but I spoke to some people and there've been rumours. She usually works in the Upper East side-"

"So, she's that sort of warlock," Blair said with a grin.

Magnus looked up at her with a smile and said, "You know it," as if there was some sort of inside joke no one else got. Alec felt a pang of irrational jealousy. "Anyway, she's been doing jobs in the more, how should I say it, dark ends of the city. The Downworlder gossip says that she's been involved in some dark magic. But now that you've found a pentagram, I wouldn't be surprised if she was into demons."

"But who would've hired her?" Alec asked.

"Honestly, I've been trying to work it out, but I can't think of anyone. You'll have to talk to her."

"And where do we find her?" Isabelle asked.

"Well, you just happen to be lucky I'm so brilliant," Magnus said with a flick of his hair, "Because I found out where she works."

"A warlock with a day job?" Blair asked.

"I had a day job, back in the day," Magnus said playfully to her.

"I'm going to say less of a day job and more a night job, right, Magnus?" Blair said with a smirk. Alec felt the jealousy again. How did Blair know something personal he didn't?

Magnus looked embarrassed for a moment then said, "She works in an art gallery. Here's the address." He slipped a piece of paper over to Alec.

"As in a mundane type of art gallery?" Blair asked. "Or is this what I'm scared to think it is?"

"Well, it's not a mundane type of art gallery," Magnus told her. Blair let out a moan of despair

"What other types of art galleries are there?" Clary asked.

"Downworlder art galleries," Blair answered, voice low and bitter. "I hate Downworlder art galleries."


	9. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hi all, just a quick note.

I've been in Central Australia for the past ten days, and therefore unable to update or write anything (nearly killed me) because of lack of computer access.

I apologise, but there wasn't really much I could do.

I have just put up chapter 8, but I'm afraid chapter 9 may be another week or so. School is killing me, so I really have to get on that, but I will still try to get as much done as I can.

Thanks to all who read, and even more so to all those who review. I appreciate the support.

I'd also like to thank my Beta Reader, who's been so fantastic with me, and done so much work for me. I have reposted the whole story, re-edited to fix all those silly mistakes, and clarify a few things.

Here, I have written something on my trip to Central Australia, originally written for a school assignment, then I realised it wasn't suitable as it was completely off topic.

Still, I enjoyed writing it and thought I might as well post it. If you're not interested in reading, don't bother, I don't really mind.

It's a small piece on when I climbed Uluru (Ayres Rock) and the whole experience. It contains some real and personal thoughts, so perhaps if you'd like to know more about me, then this is something to read.

Also, if you're interesting in the Australian landscape (although I feel compelled to remind everyone from outside of Oz, that generally Australia is suburban and city, rather than desert), this is quite descriptive (in my own weird way). It is also a way of practicing my narrative, as my beta suggested (you may have noticed my MI ff is mostly dialogue).

Still, no pressure. If you don't care, don't read.

Thanks again, and I'll get chapter 9 up as soon as I can.

-Jess

* * *

**A Moment**

The desert wasn't the red sand I had anticipated.

There was red sand, of course, but there were a startling number of trees. Some were nothing more than overgrown bushes, but others were tall, their leaves hanging around them, as if the tree were too tired to hold up it's branches. There was a lot of long yellow grass, which looked like dead weeds, but on further investigation it could be seen that it was actually still alive and growing. And then there were those trees that were black and barren, reaching up to the sky, asking for a reprieve from the sun. For me, I liked these trees the best. They had a beauty even in their death, and there had to be something said for that.

Uluru sat in the ground as if it had been placed there and was waiting for instruction. It wasn't red, I decided. It was a shade of red, orange and grey. A tone of colour, rather than a definitive colour. Though, during sunrise it was black, sunset a shade of purple, and during the rain it took on the colour of a soldier's uniform.

We were climbing it for the simple and pathetic reason it was there, and we could. Disrespectful to the Aboriginal people, yes, I was well aware, and there was a guilt in me that I had to ignore or otherwise just feel wrong. I'd overheard an American tourist telling a friend that climbing Uluru was similar to 'wearing a bikini in a Mosque', but I think that was a bit of an exaggeration.

As I pulled myself up the first slope with the chain that was placed for arrogant tourists, such as myself, I imagined some heroic movie song playing behind me. I noticed the chain was cool in my hands, which was confusing considering it had been under the Sun all day. I realised the metal had probably been chosen with that particular property. What use would I life line be if your first instinct was to let go?

I got past the first slope, and the chain ended. It wasn't as steep as I continued, and now I had a dashed white line painted onto the rock to follow. My palms began to tingle a little as I used my hands a little too often to get up a few more difficult parts, the stone scratching my skin. And Uluru _was_ stone, rather than the red dust the pictures depict. But it wasn't smooth stone; it was ridged and looked as though someone had used a cookie cutter to remove irregular circles of rock sporadically.

I stopped at a flat ridge with a puddle of water and a few tourists. The puddle had green algae floating on the surface, small black stones making up the bottom of the small pool. I found it very strange that water was up here. I'd have thought it'd dry up in the heat.

As I was sitting, catching my breath, I dropped a small rock onto the much larger rock I was climbing. It sounded hollow. I tapped the ground with my ring, again hearing a hollow sound. Of course, Uluru is hardly hollow; it's simply made of a stone that is very aerated, the red tone coming from rusted iron in the rock.

I morbidly imagined (the one flaw of having a writer's brain) Uluru suddenly cracking open and caving into a giant chasm, me falling weightlessly into darkness with large blocks of stone. I wondered what people would do. Would they scream for help, or stand gaping at the huge gorge or falling stone and ask, "But how? It's Uluru. How can it fall?"? I suppose Uluru is one of those things that people expect to be around forever, like Michael Jackson or the Sun. Really, it's a very high expectation to have of something or something. Everything falls apart in the end. And what's left?

I'm not really scared of heights; I just always get these images of falling when I'm high up. I guess that is being scared of heights, but it's never been an issue, and it's never stopped me from doing anything. I just imagined my body slipping and falling, and I watched an image of myself fumbling down the cliff face of Uluru, until I hit my head and the vision ended. It's a bizarre quirk, I realise.

My ankle was hurting (I'd fallen on it a month or so ago), which irritated me rather than actually causing me pain. Pain had always frustrated me, making me feel weak. I knew it was irrational, because pain was there for a reason; it was warning system to tell us when something was wrong. I also knew pain was the reason I watched movies and read books on immortality and superpowers. It was the same reason I wrote.

I didn't want to die so easily. I wanted to be as strong as the werewolves, as fast as the vampires and as careless as the faeries.

Of course, all the characters I wrote about hated their immortality, which made me wonder how I would feel if I actually _were _immortal.

I often wonder how I would react in certain situations, an emergency or a crisis. I see myself as calm, cool and calculating. I see myself saying things like, 'Right, everyone remain clam, we need to find a way out of here,' or 'Pass me that knife, I will perform a tracheotomy with no training at all.' Which, I understand is ridiculous; especially considering my defence mechanism is to make sarcastic, cynical and inappropriate jokes.

My heart was beating in my right ear as I looked out over the horizon. It was flat, except for a few other rock structures also asking for attention. The top of Uluru was amazing, I'll admit, full of rolling ridges of stone and erratic puddles of dark water. There were even a few small trees and weeds, of which I asked why in the hell they'd choose to make this place their home.

I felt like I was closer to the Sun, it sitting above me brightly, competing with the Moon. There were so few clouds, I could've counted them, and the wind was soft and slow around me. The sky was a pastel blue and a dull half Moon had risen, as if daring the Sun to go down and face the eventual night. I could easily imagine Ancient Greek Gods floating around on clouds of mist.

If it weren't for the hordes of tourists, I could almost imagine being alone, but of all the things I could see in my head, it was being alone that was the most difficult. Honestly, I was surprised by how many overseas tourists came to this nothingness of Australia. Sure, I loved Australia, but I was Australian, and it was a given – and anyway, I preferred the cities in Australia. I loved Melbourne more than anywhere in the world – and I've been to a few cities.

There were a few American tourists, but mostly there were European backpackers. I'd met a few Canadians that spoke French between themselves, but English with an American-like accent to others. There were people from Germany, Finland, Sweden and an Irish guy had spoken to me on the way up. I'd also met up with a Japanese exchange student I'd gone to school with in Melbourne, which was pretty amazing. Of all the places to run into someone, you wouldn't have thought the top of Uluru would be one of them.

On the way back down, it was different. Quieter, I think. Following the white dashed line was easy, and I felt relaxed. But as I reached the initial slope with the chain, I realised just how steep it was. I took small awkward steps as I went down, having to bend to hold the chain. My thighs protested, and my ankle nagged at me.

When I had tripped and almost fallen too many times for my Instant-Fear trigger to handle, I sat and catch my breath. My knees were bent up at a right angle to the rock, my feet gripping the stone, as I looked down the slope to the car park.

Perhaps the Instant-Fear trigger is unclear, so I'll describe. The jolt of your heart and catch of breath. Your muscles tense, and everything happens so fast your mind doesn't even register it till it's too late, making you believe that your mind was blank, when really you just kept thinking exactly the same thing you were thinking before you tripped.

Honestly, I liked the clarity of that moment. It was almost like restarting your whole body, and made you feel awake and immortal. Ironically.

I reached the bottom, running that forced run you have to do on a not-so-steep slope. My dad was at the bottom with my youngest sister. My mum and my other sister were still on the rock, making their way down and taking too many photos.

And as much as I had complained about the emptiness of Central Australia, Uluru was truly amazing. I often said my life was boring, which was why I wrote, to get out of that life. But in that moment I decided my life wasn't boring at all. I had stories to tell.

I'd climbed Uluru in Australia.

I'd scuba dived and parasailed in Vietnam.

I'd seen the real Harajuku girls (mentioned many times in Gwen Stefani songs) in Japan.

I'd stood on top of a live volcano in Vanuatu.

I have stories, and they make me interesting. Just because I don't get wasted every weekend and steel street signs or get involved twisted love triangles, doesn't mean I'm a boring person.

After all, in the end, what do we have except our stories?

A series of moments that make up our lives.

This was one moment of my life.


	10. The Warlock

**A/N: I just wanted to apologise for publishing the last chapter as an author's note. I've been told this isn't allowed, and it won't be happening again. Sorry. **

**In looking at my reviews (thank you all for the comments, they really help me with what you all think) I've noticed that perhaps Blair's position in the story is slightly confusing. My narrative isn't very strong, so clarification is sometimes needed. I've been working on it with my Beta. **

**I'd also like to apologise about my lack of Clary in the story. I am going to try and work on that, but, in all honesty, this story is supposed to be about Blair and her story within Clare's world. **

**I'm learning, so thanks for the feedback. **

**The Grateful Jess. **

* * *

**Chapter 9**

At first, Jace didn't understand why Blair hated Downworlder art galleries. From outside, the glamour over the gallery looked like a store that was "closed for renovation". A tall sylph was at the door, floating slightly. "We're looking for Lenka Renale," Alec said to her.

The sylph looked worried for a moment and looked down at Alec to ask, "What do Shadowhunters want with Lenka?"

"You will save yourself and us a lot of trouble if you just let us in."

The sylph opened her mouth, as if she were about to reply, but thought better of it, and opened the door to the gallery instead. It was a large white room, with seemingly no art anywhere. Instead just Downworlders hovering together in clusters, the lights dimmed, music blaring loudly from hidden speakers. At the far end of the room was a stage. There were small round coffee tables placed sporadically at the front of the room, behind the large bay windows that enclosed the gallery.

"Where's the art?" Simon asked. Then Jace realised why Blair hated Downworlder galleries.

Blair pointed to the stage and began to explain. "Downworlders take turns and stand on the stage and perform. Kind of like an open-mic night. But so much worse." Blair shuddered. "You have to see it to understand just how terrible it is. I'll never forgive Jack for making me go with him last year."

"Don't worry, I think I kind of understand," Simon said, giving a sideways glance to Clary, both reminiscing back to Eric's awful poetry readings.

A few moments after the Shadowhunters had entered the gallery, all the Downworlders went silent. "Someone would think you guys aren't liked," Blair said with an ironic smirk.

"What business does the Clave have here?" a high voice came from within a group somewhere near the back of the room.

"We're looking for Lenka Renale," Alec said loudly, his authority spreading throughout the room.

"For what reason?" the voice asked.

"A private one."

There was silence for a moment, and then a tall slim girl moved forward. She had dark skin and almond shaped eyes, her face shaped like a heart. Her hair was silky black and fell around her shoulders in waves. She was in traditional Indian dress, a bright orange, silver beaded, sari that contrasted her dark skin perfectly. She was gracefully beautiful with a red bindi between her eyes. Gold bangles decorated her hands and arms, while gold glittered in her ears and on her fingers. Dark brown henna tattoos, not so dissimilar from Shadowhunter runes twirled around her bare feet and the palms of her hands.

"I am Lenka Renale. I am the director here. Should you desire a private office, I have one through the back door." Her voice was soft and reserved, an Indian lilt almost unnoticeable. She looked over the group casually, as if trying to prove to them that she wasn't scared. Her head tilted in such a way that it was almost majestic, and she looked directly at Alec through her eyelashes in an intimidating way, sensing his leadership.

"That would be preferable," Alec told her. He wasn't intimidated, and took a step forward, his height looming over the warlock, to show her that he meant business.

"Follow me," she said and paused, giving Alec another pointed look, before turning, her hair flicking around her and walking away. She didn't look back, instead just expected the Shadowhunters to follow. The group was led past the staring accusing eyes of Downworlders back stage, following single file through a thin corridor. Dressing rooms branched off to the sides with bright lights and wall mirrors. Lenka Renale eventually stopped at one door, and held it open for the Shadowhunters. Inside was an extremely messy office. There was one desk in the centre of room, piled with schedules and designs for costumes. The walls of the room were covered with props and cupboards and bright glittery costumes were scattered everywhere. The walls were a white stone, cold and stark. Lenka turned to face the Shadowhunters. She was tall and gave off an arrogance that permeated the air around her. No one was buying it. "So, have the Clave come to take something else from me?" she asked.

"What have they taken from you previously?" Jace stared at her indignantly.

"My dignity." Her voice was bitter.

Alec got down to business quickly. "We found some of your work in an abandoned subway line-"

"Oh, please," Lenka cut in, "I've no interest in old subway lines. My work is honourable, and high paying."

"Which is exactly why we believe someone is paying you a lot of money to keep quiet."

Lenka's eyes narrowed. "What exactly are you accusing me of?"

"Demon magic," Alec said easily.

Blair watched Lenka carefully. Her real name wasn't Lenka Renale at all, Blair could taste that easily, but then, it was obvious as Lenka Renale was hardly an Indian name, and her appearance and dress clearly indicated she was Indian. Of course, Blair could already taste that on her. Her real name was Shefali Kaur.

"I do not engage in any demonic activity," Lenka lied softly. Blair could taste the lie, sticky and humid on her tongue, like taking a gulp of tropical summer air.

"She's lying," Blair said.

Lenka slowly turned to look at her. "I know you," she said, as if trying to make a threat and remember a distinct memory at the same time.

"That doesn't detract from the fact that you're lying," Blair shrugged, brushing away Lenka's comment easily enough.

"We already know it was you who summoned the demons in the subway, and we've no interest in arguing with that specific detail. What we're interested in is who hired you," Alec said, taking control again. "We need a name."

Lenka made the slightest movement with her bare feet, and in an almost immediate reaction Isabelle, Jace, Alec and Clary all tensed up, preparing to intercept the warlock if she made another move. Lenka froze, her eyes darting to each of the Shadowhunters. Blair stood back, watching. She looked bored. Simon stood at the closed door, listening to the outside corridor, ready to warn the Shadowhunters if someone was coming. Lenka took a step back, and abruptly everyone drew weapons. The Shadowhunters slowly surrounded the warlock, backing her against the wall, their weapons out and threatening. Lenka had drawn a small dagger from her sari, and was holding it front of her chest. Lenka looked hesitant and wary, while still trying to stay confident. It wasn't working.

"All we need is a name," Jace said, his hands easily flicking the blades he held in glinting circles.

"I don't know anything," the warlock looked irritated, but Blair, again, could taste her lie. Lenka wasn't scared; the warlock didn't believe that the Shadowhunters would hurt her. She still held her dagger.

It was Blair who spoke next. "You've been around for two hundred and eighty two years, and you don't know _anything_? That's certainly an odious feat."

The warlock stared at Blair, taking her in. "Who are you? I know vaguely of your face, but can't remember. You're not a Shadowhunter. A mundane? Who are you to threaten me?"

Blair let out a breath and said, "I'm bored of this." In movements too fast for the Shadowhunter's eyes to comprehend, Blair had darted between them, thrown the warlock against the nearest wall, and was pressing a seraph blade against her throat. Lenka's dagger fell to the floor with a ringing sound. "They want the name, fledgling." Blair knew the insult would evoke a reaction. It wasn't cold, but Blair could see the condensation her breath formed as she spoke – a side effect of her magic.

"Blair, what are you doing?" Isabelle almost screeched. Blair ignored her.

The warlock looked momentarily scared, then laughed. "You can't hurt me. You're with the Clave."

Blair smirked. "They are. I'm not. And I don't like warlocks who summon demons for a bit of fun." For a moment, she flashed her glamour away. She was instantly recognised by the warlock.

"I didn't summon the demons," she said, voice suddenly feeble against Blair's.

"And that's why we're looking for a name."

After a moment's thought, the warlock nodded weakly and said, "Atraco."

It wasn't a name Blair recognised. But that was irrelevant. "Good," she said, making the warlock bleed just oh-so-slightly. "Now here's a tip. If you want to stay around for another few hundred miserable years, stay the hell out of Shadowhunter business." Except that hell was replaced with a word that Blair only ever used to get a specific message across. She dropped the warlock, and watched her scurry backwards away from her. Blair turned back to the accusing eyes of Clary, Jace, Isabelle and Alec. She ignored them. "Who's Atraco?"

"Since when did the Clave employ Downworlder sluts to do their dirty work?" Lenka spat from behind Blair.

Blair turned on her slowly. "Ever since they realised warlocks were sleazy pushovers who could be bought with Gucci sunglasses."

"You're nothing but a human with wings."

"A very powerful human with wings," Blair said condescendingly.

"I know what happened to you in the Seelie Court. Every Downworlder knows what happened to you." Lenka was furious, her words shaking. "Does it haunt you?" Lenka goaded. "Does it hurt you? To think of him. To think of Eti-"

But her words were cut off by Blair's dagger at her throat. "I dare you to finish that sentence," Blair said, her voice so full of threat she knew the warlock would be in pain just from her words.

Lenka was silent.

"Wise choice," Blair told her. "Now, we need the details. How much you were paid, what you were paid to do, what does your client look like and blah, blah, blah."

"I never met them."

"You never met them?" Blair asked.

"No. I was contacted by phone, offered the job, and money was deposited into my back account. Then I was given directions to where the pentagram was to be placed. A mundane met me there with instructions."

"A mundane?"

"Yes. He had the Sight. He had also been hired. He gave me the instructions and everything else I needed."

"What else would you need?" Blair asked, suspicious. Very few mundanes were born with the Sight – the ability to see demons and Downworlders – and Blair could usually taste those humans from a mile away. There was a theory that humans who had the Sight were actually the offspring of humans and angels. This was usually dismissed to the theory that really Sighted humans just had ancestors that were fey; somewhere in the blood line a faery had gotten a human pregnant and some of the fey blood was passed on through the generations. Not enough blood was passed on to make them a faery, but enough to let them see reality. Generally humans born with the Sight ended up very messed up – seeing a world that they've been told over and over again doesn't exist can do that to a mundane. She'd only ever met one in NYC. Perhaps she would look into it.

"Did you happen to come across any of my demons?" Lenka asked.

"A couple," Blair said dryly.

"Best work I've ever produced-"

"Don't give yourself so much credit," Blair shot at her. "Hell was what produced them. You just regurgitated them."

Lenka gave Blair a resentful look. "Yes, well, regardless, they were quite brilliant, weren't they?"

"What did you do? Feed them kryptonite?" Blair asked.

Lenka looked confused for a moment, "Kryptonite?"

Blair rolled her eyes. "Forget it. What did you do to them that made them… different? Stronger. Faster."

"Did you kill them?" Lenka asked.

"Two of them," Blair answered.

"Well, I guess they weren't fast enough."

"Not nearly, but that's irrelevant. What did you do?"

"Simple, really." Lenka paused, as if for dramatic effect. "Shadowhunter blood."

"Excuse me?" Alec asked. "What are you talking about?"

"That pentagram, it was drawn in Shadowhunter blood."

Blair paused for a moment. "Yes. I knew it tasted familiar." She took a step away from the warlock, but didn't let her out of reach.

"Where the hell did you get Shadowhunter blood from?" Jace asked, outraged.

"The mundane gave it to me." Lenka kept glancing towards Blair, who was now facing away from her.

"This is way too huge," Isabelle said.

"We've got to talk to Mom. Now," Alec tossed his cell to Isabelle, and with one flick of his hand made it clear that he wanted her to call Maryse. Normally, Isabelle would've argued, but she knew now wasn't the time. She left the room, Simon following, shutting the door behind them. "How does that work? Why would Shadowhunter blood have any effect on demons, other than detrimentally?"

"I wouldn't know," Lenka shrugged. "I was just given the instructions. At a guess, I would say that it made them stronger because the blood wasn't given to the demons, themselves, just to the pentagram."

Alec nodded slowly. He moved forward and took a small metal chain from his pocket. "Magnus gave it to me," he explained to Jace, Clary and Blair. To Lenka he said, as he was fastening it to her wrist, "This, will enable us to not only keep track of you, but also ensure you stay with-in the confines of the city. When Atraco contacts you again, we will know. Don't do anything without us. Do you understand?"

"Do I have a choice?" she asked dryly.

Alec gave her a glance. "No."

* * *

Back at the Institute, Maryse had a fit, of course, when she saw the state of everyone. The only one who didn't look completely filthy was Blair. Even Isabelle had managed to get blood and ichor all over her, her dress ripped from when the Oni demon had attacked her. All injuries were checked and healed, everyone cleaned up, and food prepared by Maryse was served. Blair was strangely absent for most of this. Jace had begun to wonder if she ate at all. Just as the sun began to go down, everyone made their way to the library to talk about what had happened that day.

Robert sat at the desk, Maryse standing behind him. Isabelle, Alec, Jace and Clary all lounged in chairs, while Blair sat irritatingly on a ledge of bookshelf; one leg propped up, the other dangling.

"We'll have to inform the Inquisitor when he arrives. And we'll need to find the most recent Shadowhunter deaths," Maryse said. "Perhaps he will know something of this Atraco."

"Did you ever think to just look up the name in Shadowhunter folk tales?" Blair asked sarcastically.

Everyone turned to look at her. "Why would we think to do that?" Robert questioned.

Blair rolled her eyes, "Because how common in the name _Atraco_? I thought you would all be a little suspicious." Blair didn't falter. She just slipped off the ledge and pulled a book from the same shelf without even looking at the cover. She moved the desk and put the book in front of Robert. Blair opened it to a specific page and tapped the book, about midway down the text. There was no need to look at the words she'd just given Robert – she could taste them easily. "It's not a real name," she said. "It's just an alias."

"How do you know this?" Robert asked, bending closer to the book.

Blair gave a frustrated sigh. "I told you. I can taste it."

Robert began to read aloud. "_Atraco is a name that surfaced quite late in the historical time scale, considering its dark beginning. It was thought that the name Atraco came from a folk tale of the Aztecs, telling of an ancient and evil spirit that would come to the earth to spite all those it thought had wronged it. To wrong Atraco, there was a specific crime of wishing ill-fate on another._"

"Apparently Atraco liked irony," Jace muttered.

Robert continued. "_But in Nephilim legends it was said that Atraco was an Earth demon who possessed the specific powers to take that which men desired most. While there is evidence of this, Atraco has not been seen in many thousands of years, leading Shadowhunters to believe he was no longer interested in our earth."_

"So it's a demon. A demon is summoning other demons?" Isabelle asked.

"No. I told you. The name, Atraco, is just a false name," Blair said, again sounding frustrated. "It could be another Shadowhunter, or Downworlder for all we know. Who ever Atraco is, they're using the name to taunt you. To show you he or she is educated and trained. They're warning you."

"And how are we supposed to find a false name?" Alec asked.

"I suggest we ask Downworlders," Blair suggested. "Find out what the gossip says."

"No," Maryse said. "We will wait for the Inquisitor. He will talk to the Clave, and we will wait for instruction. This is too dangerous to go in alone. And we've no real idea of who or what this Atraco is. We wait."


	11. The Inquisitor

**Chapter 10 – Inquisitor **

The Inquisitor was young. Maybe mid-twenties. Maryse and Robert both knew of him, his reputation and his age, but neither of them had met him before. Alec, Isabelle and Jace were surprised by how young he was, but didn't mention it, of course. If he was the Inquisitor, he had that title for a reason. Blair just looked at him, her face hardly registering anything beyond mild boredom.

The Inquisitor came through the door of the Institute and shook everyone's hands with a smile and warm hello. To foreigners, most would assume his accent was Irish, but Blair was able to see through the accent and find his background was actually Welsh. "I'm so glad to finally meet you all. I've heard so much about you." He paused only to smile. "I was in England when all the business with Valentine happened, and, unable to get to Iridis. I mean, the public transport system in London is brilliant, but the magic transport system is terrible." He laughed with a soft lilt, and everyone was uneasy with his complete friendliness. Blair could hear the lie, and had no doubt others could too. If the Inquisitor had wanted to get to Iridis, he would've been able to. There was in Institute in London with an easy portal directly into Iridis. Finally, he stated, "I'm Dylan Kyanite."

He was short, but thin and toned like any experienced fighter in the Shadowhunter world. He had mousy brown hair that fell over his eyes, cut just below his ears, which made him seem very boyish. Freckles were spotted over his pale skin, and his green eyes carefully inspected everyone. He wore black Shadowhunter gear, which was slightly more formal than usual. Blair could see no weapons on him, but she could sense the glass and metal of weaponry in his bags.

Maryse began introductions. "I'm Maryse Lightwood, and this is my husband, Robert," she said, gesturing to herself and Robert. She then pointed at Alec, Isabelle and Jace. "These are my children, A-"

"Yes," the Inquisitor grinned, "the famed Lightwood children. Alec, Isabelle and Jace. I offer condolences regarding your youngest child, Max."

"Thank you," Maryse said stiffly. "And this is Clary Fairchild."

"I've heard the stories," the Inquisitor said. "Is it true about your wonderful ability? Can you really create runes?"

"Umm…" Clary seemed uncertain. "Yes, I can."

Blair took a step back, as if shocked, but nothing registered on her face. Everyone turned to look at her. She watched Clary, looking confused. "Clary doesn't create runes."

"What?" Maryse asked, looking angry and frustrated with Blair's constant interruptions and know-it-all tone.

"Clary doesn't create runes," Blair repeated.

"And what would you know?" Alec stepped in, defensively. Like his parents he was becoming tired of her flippant attitude and sense of omniscience.

Blair moved closer to Clary ignoring Alec and his parents and spoke directly to Clary. Clary was very aware of her own height, as if Blair somehow made her feel even shorter. "You don't invent runes or create them. You didn't know that, did you?"

Isabelle, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance, also came to Clary's defence, "She does create them."

"The runes you draw Clary, you haven't invented them," Blair said. She was amazed that experienced Shadowhunters such as the Lightwoods would not be aware of the difference. She was surprised that in the whole Shadowhunter world, no one knew this.

The tension in the room continued to climb and the others began to shift their weight in discomfort. Jace prepared to support Clary further if need be. Clary, in her typical fiery manner, retorted, "Yes, I do. They aren't in the Grey book."

Blair wasn't backing down from this. She may have lacked formal Shadowhunter training or knowledge but her gift provided her with insight that others missed. Clary and the others needed to understand the difference with creating runes and angel runes. "It's because they are angel runes. These runes were considered too powerful for Shadowhunters to use, so the angels hid them from you. However, Clary, you have the ability to use them." Blair paused and continued to try and make them understand. "When you draw _new_ runes do you feel like you're being guided? Like someone is moving your hand for you?"

Clary was silent for a moment, and then answered, "Yes."

"That's because you are being guided by the angels. They've put their trust in you."

The room filled with a tense silence. Jace, clenching and un-clenching his fists, broke it. "And I suppose you know this because you can taste it?" he asked, scepticism in his voice.

Blair shrugged. "As I have tried to explain before, my gift allows me to see history behind stories. I can see how the angel's hands have touched her. I know they have covered her with their trust. And the runes Clary draws have a stale, not fresh flavour to them. That's how I know."

There was an awkward silence as everyone shifted his or her gaze from Clary to Blair, then back again. The Inquisitor broke the silence with, "Well, I can clearly assume you are Blair."

Blair turned her attention to look at the Inquisitor. "Yes."

"Blair…" The Inquisitor paused.

"Hayden," Blair finished. "I'm Blair Hayden. The hybrid freak. Nice to meet you."

With the same brightly constructed mask, the Inquisitor smiled, but underneath it all he was sizing Blair up against the facts that he'd been told. "Yes, yes. I must say, you do intrigue me. If what Maryse has said is true…" There wasn't any doubt in his voice, he believed Maryse completely.

At that moment, Robert Lightwood's voice interrupted the Inquisitor's internal assessment of Blair. "Perhaps the adults should continue this somewhere else," he suggested. "Perhaps the library?"

"Yes, sounds good," the Inquisitor beamed.

Maryse and Robert led the Inquisitor down a corridor, asking "Would you like anything? Tea, coffee? Something to eat? You've had a long trip."

Their voices faded away as they walked down the long hall in the direction of the library.

* * *

After maybe an hour or so, Blair was asked to join them in the library. No one else was invited, Isabelle and Jace began to protest slightly, but Maryse gave them a look and they were quiet immediately.

This time it was the Inquisitor who sat the desk, looking out of place in the darkness. Blair found it ironic he came from a dark and rainy place like Wales, considering he looked as though he'd stepped out of a children's cartoon, full of smiles and rainbows and happy, happy, happiness.

"Blair, please sit," the Inquisitor said, standing as she entered. Maryse and Robert were standing stiff backed behind him. There was a chair placed in front of the desk, which Blair sat in, feeling as if she were up for a job interview. The thought reminded her quickly of her actual job. She'd have to get Jack to call Freaky Pete and tell him she'd be off for the next few weeks. "Now, I've never heard of someone such as yourself before, as, I understand, neither have Maryse or Robert." Blair noticed that the Inquisitor treated the Lightwoods as if they were close friends. The Lightwoods didn't return the feeling. "Perhaps you would like to explain exactly what you are."

"Part fey, part Shadowhunter. From what I could gather, my mother was a Shadowhunter, and my father was a faery."

"And how long have you known about this?"

"About two years."

"And before that?"

"I'd been adopted by a human family. Obviously I was given the glamour of a human form. I didn't know anything about this world until my glamour started to disintegrate." The Inquisitor was still looking at Blair as if studying her. She honestly hated it. There was something strange in his gaze and something cold in his emotions.

"I see… and you are able to not only withstand and use runes to your advantage, but also have fey magic?" The Inquisitor's voice was neutral, with a happy undertone, as if he were genuinely interested in who Blair was. It was as if he were trying to be her friend, rather than the person that would decide her fate.

"Yes." Blair didn't mean to sound cold, but she couldn't help it.

Maryse spoke. "She also claims that she has some vampire blood as well."

"Vampire blood?" the Inquisitor questioned. There wasn't any accusation, just a disbelief and curiosity.

"Yes," Blair said, showing him her wrist gingerly. "A blood, binding rune. My immune system is better than a Shadowhunter's or faery's. I heal like a vampire. With the exception of iron." Again, there was something in the Inquisitor's emotions that wasn't quite right. Humans and Shadowhunters tended to have very strong feelings of emotions that often dictated irrational decisions. As far as Blair could tell, the Inquisitor didn't have this; it seemed his emotional response was similar to that of a faery or vampire.

"And I understand, along with the iron sensitivity you also can't lie?"

"Yes, that's correct." Blair sounded so formal. It didn't suit her voice. She sunk lower in her chair slightly. The Inquisitor narrowed his eyes just a fraction, as if concerned by her movement. Then his wide-eyed smile was back. The emotion he'd felt happened so fast, and disappeared just a quickly. Blair could've convinced herself the instant change hadn't been there at all.

"How come we never knew about you before?" Why couldn't Blair read the Inquisitor's emotions? He was so scrambled. It was almost like his emotions were constantly changing, and Blair could never get anything definitive.

"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. Valentine did it. God did it. I did it." Blair tried to sound laid-back and almost standoffish. She doubted she pulled it off. In fact her voice just sounded a little strangled. The Inquisitor made her feel unsure of herself. Something was there, but she just couldn't put a name to it.

"Comparing yourself to Satan, God and Valentine." The Inquisitor paused, his tone suddenly and distinctly harsh. Maryse stole a glance at the Inquisitor, then Blair. Even if Blair couldn't read Maryse's emotions, her eyes were giving Blair a warning; _tread very carefully._ "Think highly of yourself, do you?" This time the Inquisitor sounded petty and almost angry. The unexpected change frightened Blair. Anyone who was so temperamental was never stable, and it was never healthy to get caught on the wrong side of someone like this.

"Of course," Blair said breezily, this time trying to sound relaxed as if the Inquisitor's little emotional spasm didn't bother her at all. But there was a bitter taste left in her mouth; like wax.

For a moment the Inquisitor frowned, looking uncomfortable, but in a split second his smile was back, painted on his face like a doll. "And how, may I ask, did you get involved in this world? From what I understand you have sisters too. And you are living with a vampire and working with werewolves. How did all this come about?"

Blair didn't answer for a moment, and everything was silent. "My parents were murdered by fey from the Seelie Court. My mundane adoptive parents, that is. I don't know who my real parents are. My adoptive sisters – Nat and Dee – were abducted and brought to New York. I spent a few months looking for them, but came up with nothing. It wasn't until the Court contacted me that I even had a lead on where they were. The Court told me to come to New York to hear out a deal they were offering me. My servitude in the Court for my sister's safety. I said yes, and spent the next six months in the Court."

"And how did you get out of the Court?"

"Jack – the vampire I'm bound to – saved me. After that I found my sisters, one of them a vampire, the other a werewolf. I stayed here to look out for them." Blair found herself justifying the very reason she was in NYC. It was stupid; she was allowed to be here if she wanted.

The Inquisitor nodded. He never wrote anything down, just watched Blair in a way that made her uncomfortable. It felt like she had an itch she wasn't allowed to scratch. "How did you know you had Shadowhunter blood?"

"The Seelie Queen told me, and Magnus – the high warlock of Brooklyn – also mentioned it." At first, Blair had figured she was half fey, half human, but the Seelie Queen had told her she was 'special' (the Queen had always been condescending by nature) and that the blood of a Shadowhunter ran through her veins.

"Where did you grow up?" Blair didn't like this question.

She sighed and said, "Australia."

"Really?" the Inquisitor's voice was full of surprise. "I've only been there once. Very interesting place." The Inquisitor looked like he wanted to go on about his travels to Australia, but paused, as if remembering he had a job to do, and waited for Blair to answer.

She shrugged. "My mother obviously was looking for something far away. She found it."

"But you have an American accent."

"Yeah," suddenly when Blair spoke next she had an easy Australian accent, "I put on the American accent because it was irritating when people were constantly asking where I was from. And it drew too much attention. It was _so_ much easier just being American."

"How did you get to New York then? You'd have been only young, what… about fifteen? Not old enough to legally fly, on a plane, by yourself. How did you manage that?"

With her American accent up again she said, "I just used a glamour of an adult. Simple really. And I put a glamour over my passport too. I used magic so that the computers would read that I was a legal citizen. Wasn't all that hard."

"I see. But how did you know to come to America? How did you know the Seelie Court entrance was in New York?"

"Well, the fey took Nat and Dee from my home in Melbourne, and brought them here. The fey told me where my sisters were. So, I followed the directions and wound up here."

"Why was the Queen so interested in you?" The Inquisitor looked almost hungry for the answer to this question. It seemed as if the Inquisitor had placed some sort of bet, and was waiting to see if he'd won.

"The Shadowhunter blood, as well as my mundane upbringing, makes me stronger than most fey."

The Inquisitor nodded, still looking at Blair, lips pursed. "Well, this has certainly been educational." He stood suddenly, a smile beaming on his face, and said, "I will talk to the Clave, see what they have to say. You've been very helpful, Blair. I am very glad I got the chance to meet such an interesting individual such as yourself." He reached his hand out and Blair took it. The Inquisitor squeezed gently, and gave what Blair figured was supposed to be a reassuring smile. Inwardly, she shuddered. Underneath his casually cute exterior she could taste the deception that had gotten him this job so young. And he was already planning something. Blair knew this wasn't going to end well. He let go of her hand, and she quickly pulled back. Without saying anything, she turned and walked away.

The Inquisitor watched Blair leave, her feet almost gliding over the floor as if she didn't really need it for support. She looked too average and boring. Who would believe a girl like her could be so powerful? And Dylan knew she was powerful, he didn't need her to tell him that. Because ever since he was child, he'd been gifted with an asset very few Shadowhunters ever received. It was the only reason he had the title of Inquisitor. He was able to sense creatures, and the power they possessed. Dylan was able to walk into a room and identify every being as either a mortal, or immortal, and just how much magic, or angel blood they held.

It was because of this talent that Dylan hadn't been in Iridis during the war against Valentine. Of course, if he'd needed to, he could've easily gotten to Iridis. There was an Institute in London for Pete's sake. But he's been needed elsewhere for… sensitive work.

"Is there anything else you should want to tell me of Blair or this demon summoner?" the Inquisitor asked Robert and Maryse. They'd already filled him in on their children's meddling with the demons in the subway and the warlock at the gallery.

"No. I can show you to your room now, or perhaps you'd like to contact the Clave first?" Maryse asked.

"No, I think I will go to my room, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. If there's anything else we can think to tell you, we won't hesitate."

"Very good."

* * *

Blair sped down the den of corridors trying to find her room. She heard Jace before she saw him; he came from his room and began walking towards her. He didn't notice her at first, his head down, but when he saw her, his step faltered just slightly.

"Oh, it's you," he said.

Blair wasn't in the mood to talk. "No. It's your conscience."

"Nah, my conscience isn't nearly as moody."

"Yeah, I suppose it'd only be set on defence mode."

"Generally," Jace smiled. "So, how'd it go? With the Inquisitor?"

"He smiled at me and I was polite."

Jace gave a mock snort. "You. Polite? I doubt it."

Blair smirked. "Just because I'm selfish and egotistical most of the time, doesn't mean I can't be polite. You were the one who said I was moody."

"All right. I'll give you that."

"Where's Clary?" she asked him.

For some reason this annoyed him. Why was Blair asking? And did he have to be attached to Clary _all _the time? "I took her home."

"Relax," Blair said, pulling back. "I was just wondering. No need to get angsty."

Jace also hated that Blair could just steal people's emotions. Of all things, emotions were probably even more private than thoughts, who was she to just read them all the time. "Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't intrude into people's minds all the time."

Blair laughed that fake sarcastic laugh. "I don't intrude into people's minds. Emotions aren't thoughts. Emotions have a physical effect on people. Some humans are trained in reading emotion in body language. This is basically what I do, only I get the choice to know or not." Blair gave Jace a pointed look. "Most of the time, I hate feeling emotions from everyone all the time. Most of the time I couldn't care less about what strangers are feeling."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason you use your _gifts _to manipulate," Jace said, then brushed past her angrily. He didn't want to feel this. He didn't want to feel this stupid emotion towards Blair. He hardly knew what it was. It was frustrating when he was around her, but there was something else. He hated it. And not knowing only made it worse.

And then Blair called out, "It's not my fault, you jerk!"

Jace spun hotly on his heels. "What?"

"Don't blame me for this stupid emotional breakdown you're having. It's not my fault you can't deal with the slightest change in your safe little world." Her body was taut with irritation.

"That is… You don't know what you're talking about," Jace spat out the words, and anger surged through him. And something else; an emotion he could hardly recognise. Fear.

Blair's face changed instantly. "You're terrified of me," Blair said, seeming confused. "Why?"

"I'm not scared of you," Jace said, grudgingly.

"I can taste it. It's falling off you. Why are you scared of me?"

"Just…I have to go. Leave us alone."

Blair was left in the corridor, shaking with anger. Damn him. Who was he to… Blair's anger built up and she threw her arm out, magic splashing across the walls. But, there was no real effort behind it, and Blair's magic just fell to the ground like water and splashed away.

It wasn't love. Blair knew what love tasted like. Usually it just made her feel sick. Love tasted like hot and cold at the same time. Like steam in the snow, or stepping into a hot shower after coming out of a freezing ocean. A stinging sensation that you had to warm up to, but never did, instead just jumping in and feeling pain.

What Jace felt wasn't even Need. Need just tasted sweet and thick in her mouth, with a buttery aftertaste. It was an instinct more ingrained than self-preservation, and could destroy so easily. Blair didn't like the emotion, need, anymore than she liked love. It reminded her of the Seelie Court.

Blair walked to her room and stripped off her human glamour. What Jace felt was nothing more than an empty and irrational attraction to the competition Blair posed. There was nothing real. Blair took a breath. Damn him.


	12. Negotiations

**A/N: After reading several recent reviews, I've been feeling as though a lot of people don't like Blair, or how I've portrayed any of the characters. I was even asked to re-write some of my last chapter as apparently I'd made the other characters seem like idiots. This, of course, wasn't my intention. In fact, just the opposite – I was trying to show them coming to Clary's defence.**

**Where I've received constructive feedback, I've taken it into consideration. Some have noticed that in the most recent chapter, "The Inquisitor", I worked to make Blair's dialogue less annoying or arrogant. And I will continue to work to get all of the characters portrayed appropriately for this piece of fanfiction, which will hopefully keep them in character. Admittedly, the other characters are Clare's characters, and I am not very good at keeping them in tune with the books (I am working on that), but I've never wanted to undermine them.**

**To 'my loving fans' of Chloe, Julia, Kathryn and Lydia, I apologise because I am not going to re-write my last chapter. The particular part you objected to is not essential to the story, so you can ignore it if you like. I am sorry, but from what I read in MI I got the distinct impression that Clary created runes (with the exception of the rune Ithiriel gave Clary). On page 376 of CoG, Clary clearly states that, "I can create new runes. Not just the ones in the Gray Book. Runes no one's ever seen before - powerful ones--" And on page 378 of CoG Clary states "...And I did that with one rune, a single rune, a rune that I created." **

**Even so this is my perspective and a new view on Clary's ability; a little creative licence, which I believe I'm allowed. I wrote what I did because I thought it would be something interesting to explore. This is not something, by any means, that Cassandra Clare believes, but this is my fiction and just a different perception. I DID NOT write it to undermine Clary's ability or make her, or any of the other characters inferior to Blair. I think you must remember I am writing this story for leisure. I am not Cassandra Clare, and this isn't going to be published. I am trying to get better at writing, and I feel fanfiction and fiction press are a good place to do it. **

**I would also like to add to all reviewers that comments can be helpful to an aspiring writer or very destructive. New or younger writers just starting out could be devastated by unkindly or insensitive reviews. I would encourage readers to express their opinions, but do it constructively. And there is a difference with constructive feedback and difference of opinion with how the author of a fanfic chose to portray existing characters or a character s/he created or with the direction of the particular fanfic. Readers, if they do no like a story, do not need to continue reading. Additionally, some comments may be more appropriate for a P.M. instead of a review but again should be worded kindly.**

**I will try to make Blair a little more human, and perhaps make others more prominent in the story, although readers must remember this is a story of Blair. Thank you to _Lola,_ Kira**** and **_**JacobAPotter**_** for your constructive reviews. Reviews such as these really help me to get a feel as to what people are thinking and how to improve.**

**I have been, and will continue to, work on the characters, and I do appreciate all those who review with thoughts on the story. I'm learning from all of you. I apologise for the long author's note, but I am concerned that the story is not coming across as I intended it.**

**In this chapter, which is a little shorter, you will see some of the Inquisitor's thoughts and the back-story on Jack. In some of the subsequent chapters, you will get more of Blair's back-story, which I hope will give you more understanding as to why she is who she is. **

**Thank you to everyone.**

**Jess. **

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Negotiations**

In the short time that the Inquisitor had been at the New York Institute, he was already well aware of just how much the Clave would want Blair, and more specifically her ability. Her gift was powerful and amazingly well developed for someone who'd been living as a human until just two years ago. She was perfect in almost every way for what they would need her to be used for. The fact that she was also defiant, powerful, and easy to pin blame on, if ever necessary, was just an added benefit. She was also trustworthy in the way that no one would actually trust her.

The Clave and the Inquisitor had both agreed that Blair staying with the Lightwoods would serve best for the Clave. The Inquisitor doubted she would even last long with the Lightwoods, if it not for the fact that they had to follow the orders given them. Blair would only be needed for this specific purpose, and should she survive, then sure, the Clave could use her again. The point was, her death wouldn't be problem.

Prior to arriving, the Clave had instructed the Inquisitor to inform the Lightwoods that Blair would stay with them, under their watchful eye, and train as a Shadowhunter. Privately he had informed Maryse and Robert that should she ever try to leave, they were to threaten her with either her sisters, or her vampire friend.

In preparation for this visit, the Inquisitor had researched the vampire Blair was bound to – Jack Wallance – and found a very interesting history. Being an astute person, he recognized that Blair would likely not cooperate and having information on those that she was close to might come in handy. The information on Jack Wallance proved to be very enlightening and potentially useful. Jack had been born in 1891 into the war stricken country of South Africa. When he was seven or eight, his parents were killed. No one knew how or who'd killed them. For most of Jack's eventful childhood, he'd just survived in the streets and wild of Southern Africa, somehow managing to keep out of the authorities' eyes. Although, 'the authorities' were hardly anything but corrupt at that time in Africa's history.

For the first few decades as a vampire, Jack seemed to disappear from society. It wasn't until the Second World War was raging in Europe that Jack appeared again on the radar of the Clave. Jack, growing up with war and never really leaving it, thrived. He played a great part in the war, getting involved in everything from Stalin to the Dutch Resistance and even the Middle East.

When the war ended, Jack searched the world for more conflict, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Of course, he always found war. There was the Korean and Vietnam Wars. Then various genocides including Cambodia and Rwanda. There were the numerous Middle Eastern Conflicts. Jack found war easy to understand, and chased it.

Then, it seemed, Jack somehow almost got himself killed. This, changed his outlook on war, and he came to America where he met Raphael. Raphael took him in, and apparently, Jack and Raphael became quite close. Jack was Raphael's unofficial wingman.

Until Jack found Blair, and apparently _saved _her. The Inquisitor was, of course, sceptical about why a heartless vampire would even save a faery, no matter how beautiful she happened to be. This was part of Jack's history that worried him. The unknown factor could cause problems later on. On the other hand, the Inquisitor also figured Raphael would hardly be happy with Jack's decision to leave him, which could easily be exploited to the Inquisitor's advantage.

And the biggest secret was Jack's particular line of work. It tied in with all his involvement with wars in the past. There was only one reason why a vampire would be allowed in the fey court. And only one reason why Jack would have enough leverage to save Blair.

He was a Dealer.

Jack had obviously learnt from his previous experience with conflict, that in order to survive in a world of war you don't become a part of the war. Instead control it by supplying it. And this was what he was still doing to this day. Only now he was supplying the Downworld.

And the Inquisitor had found out that Jack had dealt in everything from selling faery magic to humans to buying dragon scales from warlocks. He performed the Downworlder service that was almost criminal, but not quite. He was the same as a mundane arms dealer – technically he wasn't pulling the trigger, but he was enabling others to. And the others weren't good people. Jack dealt with the evil in the Downworld.

And now all the Inquisitor had to prove, was that it'd been Jack that'd stolen and sold the Shadowhunter blood to the warlock.

Blair, was nothing but the scapegoat. As long as she truly was the reckless, self-destructive child the Inquisitor had so shrewdly picked up on, then everything would go according to plan.


	13. The Wrong Person

**Chapter 12 – The Wrong Person**

Jace knocked edgily on Blair's door later that evening, and waited impatiently. She opened the door and stepped aside to let him in without any question. She was in her fey form, which only irritated Jace further.

Blair didn't say anything; she just waited for Jace to start talking. She sat on her bed and watched him pace in her room.

Jace took a breath. "The Inquisitor spoke to the Clave, and they've decided on what to do with you. Maryse wanted me to inform you." Blair immediately wondered why Maryse hadn't inform her. Then Blair wondered why she'd sent Jace of all people. Everyone knew they clashed. Perhaps Maryse was avoiding something. Or perhaps she was trying to show Blair something. Trying to show Blair who held the power.

Jace's tone told Blair that it wasn't going to be something either of them wanted. "And I'm not going to like it, yeah I figured, just tell me. I've dealt with worse things than the Clave."

"They want you to stay here. Train with us." Blair looked Jace up and down. He seemed… not quite angry, but… aggravated, like a child forced to eat vegetables.

Blair scoffed. "Sure. And what are they threatening me with?"

Jace shook his head, suddenly serious. Blair could still sense Jace's aggravation, but as he spoke, it dimmed to make way for a responsibility and… loyalty. Not to Blair, of course, but to his sense of integrity. He felt like he had to tell Blair this, simply because it was the right thing to do. "I'm not supposed to know this, but I overheard the Inquisitor talking to Maryse. If you run, or try to run, I think they're going to bring in your vampire. Apparently he's some sort of–"

"Dealer," Blair cut in, her voice hard. "Yes, I'm well aware. So, the Clave feels the need to be more sadistic than Valentine." She glanced at Jace. "Sorry, shouldn't have said that."

Jace looked away quickly, averting his eyes from Blair's stare. "It's fine." He noticed his hands were curled into fists, and he quickly relaxed them, taking a breath.

Blair put her head in her hands. "I hate Shadowhunters," she muttered.

Jace had a momentary feeling of resentment, but then, he felt sort of sorry for Blair. He hated to admit it, but Blair didn't really deserve this. She was annoying, but she shouldn't be forced to do something against her will. It wasn't really fair.

"Don't feel sorry for me," Blair said, looking up. "I hate that. It's like dripping straight vodka on my tongue."

Jace paused for a moment. There was an awkwardness between them. "How can you taste emotions? I mean, I get that you taste them, but, how do you tell what emotions they are? And languages. How can you taste languages? And books?"

Blair frowned in concentration. "It… just like different things smell different, emotions have different flavours. You know how sometimes you'll smell something and have a sudden memory? Well, it's like that. Someone feels a specific emotion, and I get a different flavour." Blair waited to see if Jace understood. He nodded, but didn't say anything. "And languages, lies, words, books and names all have a very specific history and meaning. They all have emotion ingrained into them. The stronger the emotion, the easier it is to read. Ancient languages are very easy to read, because so much human feeling has been poured into them over the years."

"Names?" Jace asked. He supposed he should've guessed with the whole 'Atraco' thing.

"I can taste true names," Blair answered with a slight flick of her head, as if her ability was an irritating bug she was trying to rid herself of.

"True names?"

"To fey, to have another's true name it is to have complete control over that person. Only two people ever had my true name…" Her hands were suddenly shaking, like suddenly an icy cold wind had blown over her. "It's awful."

Jace was so stunned by her reaction, he had nothing to say. To see Blair without her impenetrable confidence was like a child seeing one of their parents cry for the first time. It came as a complete shock and an inability to comprehend.

Then, Blair continued, "I could've had complete control over all the fey in the court. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It was too awful." She paused, and then looked at Jace. She almost felt as if she wanted to tell him. Just spill everything and give him some understanding as to why she was the way she was. Blair shook herself out of that thinking. She hated it. She hated using her past to justify who she was. She hated blaming the Seelie Court and… _Etihad_. Of course, the irony was that it _was_ her past that'd shaped her identity. She just wished she didn't _need _to defend her personality. "Anyway, do you remember me saying Simon looked like a David?"

And like nothing had happened, the insecurity that Jace had seen only moments ago was gone and replaced with her infuriatingly cool certainty. Jace felt as though Blair was almost trying to convince him her fear had never been there. But Jace was convinced he saw it. He wondered what the great mystery was.

"Yeah," Jace said. "I just thought you were weird."

Blair ignored the jibe. "Well, I could taste his true name. And it was David. I've no idea why. Usually first names are christened as they are. It is very rare that someone's true name will be different than his or her first name. Their last name is usually always different." Blair shrugged.

"What… what about me?" Jace could hear the uncertainty in his own voice.

"Do you really want to know?" Blair asked. She stood and moved closer to him.

Jace took a breath. "Yes."

"At first, you were hard to read. When I first saw you at Pandemonium, that same day you met Clary, I couldn't read you."

"You were there that day?"

"Yeah, I was in the closet with you."

Jace only nodded. "Why was I so hard to read?"

"It was blurred. Your first name was always Jace. Always. But your last name was so muddled. I got whispers of four. Wayland was the most prominent. Then Morganstern. Lightwood. And finally Herondale."

"Even that long ago? Before I knew everything. My name told you that?"

"Of course. I told you, these are true names. They are always there; they don't change. Clary, is Clarissa Fairchild. She was always a Shadowhunter, you see, so she has a Shadowhunter name. And she was always her mother's daughter. Luke, his true name is still Lucian Graymark. He's also a Shadowhunter first. He won't change."

"But I changed?" Jace was anxious.

"You never changed. It was always there, just blurred. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Morganstern."

"No," Jace said on reflex.

Blair said her next words slowly, as if cautious. "He was your father, Jace. You have his blade. His ring. You grew up with him – he was all you knew until you met the Lightwoods. And I do understand he may not have been the best father, but you loved him. Until you found out who he really was you admired him. He taught you so much, and he loved you too."

"How can you know that?" Jace asked.

"Because you do," Blair said simply. She waited for a moment, as if to let the words sink in. "You have to understand that the Morgansterns were smart and strong. They were brilliant warriors because of their willingness to sacrifice. They were always loyal – a quality you hold in very high regard. Valentine was crazy, sure, but he was only one. You have more right to the name than he ever did."

"But his real son, Jonathon, his name was Morganstern."

Blair shook her head. "If the Downworlder rumours are true, and Jonathon was part demon, then he didn't have a true name. Demons don't."

Jace wondered what exactly that meant. If he was truly a Morganstern was he always destined for it, or was it something that grew with Jace.

"Look," Blair said, "You need to understand that names aren't something that hold much impact on anyone other than fey. To you, and the Lightwoods, you are part of their family. Maryse and Robert see you as their son, just as Isabelle, Alec, and even Max, see you as a brother. Whether or not you are a Morganstern makes no difference. Jace, you'd have been the same person you are even if you didn't have a name at all. I hardly need to tell you this. You already know it."

Her sudden kindness struck Jace, and he said quickly, "I'm sorry about before."

Blair shrugged, "Don't be. I don't really care that much."

Jace nodded, then said, "I thought I was part demon last year. My father – Valentine…" Jace didn't finish the sentence.

"I'd heard that Valetine manipulated you. I guess he manipulated everyone. I'm sorry to hear it."

Jace doubted it. He figured Blair had felt that doubt, because she pursed her lips, her wings fluttering softly and said, "You won't ever trust me, Jace. I don't really expect you to. Just give me a chance."

"A chance for what?"

Blair opened her mouth to speak, but then she shut it again. As if changing her mind, she just said, "Don't worry about it. You should probably go."

"Yeah. I guess." Jace walked to the door, Blair watching him. He paused for a moment, but then realised he had nothing to say and left.

* * *

The next morning, when Blair finally made it to the kitchen, being the last one up and ready, Maryse decided to set Blair some ground rules. Blair came into the kitchen as if she was owed some kind of attention and slipped into a chair, grabbing a piece of fruit and biting into it. "Blair, as you will be training with us, you need to understand the etiquette here," Maryse began. "You come home when told, and wake up and go to sleep when asked. You will train with Isabelle, Alec and Jace, and go hunting with them, following whoever happens to be in charge."

"I can do that," Blair shrugged.

Maryse seemed stunned by Blair's lack of defence. The Inquisitor had said without a doubt that Blair would be defiant, and that should Maryse need to she were to use the threat of her, apparently criminal, vampire friend. Maryse looked at Blair, trying to find the reason as to why she'd agreed so easily, then asked, "Do you have any other questions?"

"Yeah, what do we get to do about the Atraco thing?"

"Nothing."

There was outcry throughout the kitchen from all three Lightwood children. Blair was the only one who didn't seem surprised by this.

"Enough," Maryse said, her voice hard. "The Inquisitor and the Clave have decided this is too dangerous for us to deal with. They want to keep it quiet and controlled. They've asked us to stay out of it."

"But we _found_ it," Alec muttered.

"Yeah, we were the ones who fought the demons," Isabelle put in. "I destroyed a perfectly good - extremely nice and expensive - jacket."

"No," Maryse said, eyeing her children. "We are to stay out of this, as the Clave asks. If this were a serious issue I thought the Clave weren't handling well, I might agree with you, but we know nothing of this Atraco or the demons. The Clave will be better equipped to deal with this."

Jace was strangely quiet. Everyone expected he would be the first to protest. All he said was, "I suppose they're right," before standing, and walking quickly out of the room. Blair gave a smile, as if she knew some kind of secret, and followed. Alec and Isabelle were busy still pouting at their mother.

Blair caught up to Jace easily and said, "I knew you wouldn't be the type to give up so easily." Her gift had picked up his complete defiance, and she knew he was planning something.

"We need to find out more about this Atraco," Jace said, thinking aloud as they walked away from the kitchen.

"Yeah, and how do you plan to do that?" Blair asked.

"I need to talk to a few people."

* * *

Alec, Isabelle, Jace and Blair had all snuck off to the weapons room after Jace had suggested they continue their own investigation. Isabelle had been ecstatic. Alec was hesitant, but eventually agreed.

"First," Jace said, "we need to find out more about Atraco. Was there anything else you could get from the name, Blair?" It was evident that Jace was the leader for this little underground mission – if it could be called that.

"Nothing I haven't already told you," Blair shrugged. "But I think we should check out that mundane with the Sight. He could know something."

"And how would you find him? New York City isn't exactly small," Isabelle pointed out.

"Well, I've only ever met one in New York. Mundanes with the Sight aren't common. Usually they're dead before they reach adulthood." Blair said it so casually Jace was forced to think that Blair felt death wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a human. In truth, she was probably right. Jace had seen too much in his life to disagree.

"Really?" Isabelle asked. "Why?"

Blair shrugged. "Usually they go crazy and commit suicide. Sometimes Downworlders kill them. You guys never investigate deaths of mundanes so you don't even know when a Sighted human is killed." There was no accusation in her voice, but the Shadowhunters couldn't help but feel that irrational guilt when humans were killed and they weren't able to help. Technically, they knew it wasn't their fault, and they couldn't be expected to do anything about it, but the guilt was still there. There was silence and no one looked at Blair.

"Umm… well, I can talk to Magnus," Alec put it, breaking the collective tension. "See if he's heard anything, or could find anything."

"I could probably pick up Simon and we could talk to Maia," Isabelle suggested. She looked to Blair. "Could your vampire guy speak to Raphael?"

"Umm…" Blair gave a slight laugh. "Not really. There's a long history and well… Raphael hates Jack, and hates me even more, so probably not."

"We can probably leave Raphael out of this for the moment," Jace said. "Considering he's not really fond of any of us. If we can't find anything, we can always go to him later."

"Sounds like a good idea," Alec agreed.

"I don't think we could get Clary to ask Luke, he might mention something to Jocelyn, and it could get back to Maryse, which we obviously don't want," Jace reasoned.

"I could talk to Freaky Pete," Blair offered. "I need to talk to him anyway, tell him I'll be off work for a while. He often knows what's going on in the Downworld. And if I ask him, he won't mention anything to Luke."

"Sounds good," Jace nodded, thinking. "But Isabelle, could you also go to Taki's with Simon, after you've talked to Maia, and maybe see if anyone knows anything there. But… be discreet."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, "Duh."

Jace nodded, thinking. "Clary and I could talk to the Seelie Court." He was hesitant. Faery courts, especially after his last experience, made him nervous. Which was certainly saying something. "The Queen seemed to like us last time." _Liked screwing with us even more,_ he thought.

Blair shifted, drawing unwanted attention to herself. She looked uncomfortable or maybe anxious, as if they were talking about something she didn't want to think about. She acted like a guilty man might act if others were talking about his crime.

Jace narrowed his eyes at her. "Blair, could you join us? I'm sure your previous engagement with the court will help us."

"No," Blair said, her voice distant. "My previous engagement wasn't a good one."

"Look, I know that I don't understand all that happened to you when you were forced into the Court, but if there was any way that you could come it would really help us out," Jace said, trying his hardest to be nice. He took a step toward her without much conscience thought. "You know more about faeries than any of us, and I'm guessing you know the Seelie Court intimately."

Blair seemed to shudder at the last word. "No," Blair said louder. "I'm not going back there."

"Fey Courts are dangerous for anyone who's not fey," Alec said. "And-"

"You think I don't know that," Blair said angrily at him.

Alec was surprised by her sudden rage. "And Clary and Jace can't go down there by themselves. If you don't go with them, we'd all have to go together, and even then it could still be dangerous considering the Queen hasn't offered us any sanctuary this time. We're asking for your help, Blair."

Blair spun to him, anger almost flying off her. "_No._" Her voice was venomous.

"We understand you must've had a bad experience in the Court," Isabelle began, trying to be reasonable with Blair. Both Jace and Alec could easily read Isabelle's irritation at Blair. Isabelle was the sort of person who couldn't comprehend why someone wouldn't want to face and confront their fears.

"You _don't_ understand," Blair's words shot back at Isabelle with fury. "If you did, you wouldn't even be asking…" Blair closed her eyes as if she could block out what they were asking of her. "What you're asking me to do…" Again, Blair just couldn't get the sentence out. "I can't go to the Court because…" She was shaking, her hands balled into fists. She opened her mouth to continue, but stopped, as if the words were choking her. "I just can't go back. I… I just can't," she finished lamely. Jace noticed that through her anger her eyes were suddenly watery, and her pupils were dilated so much so that her eyes were almost black, the iris just a small ring of grey/blue.

"That's pathetic," Isabelle suddenly burst out, her frustration taking over. "Clary and Jace need your help. We all need your help."

"Isabelle," Alec warned softly. He was the mediator in this instance. He may have agreed with Isabelle, but it was hardly a reason to lash out.

"No," Isabelle said, facing Blair menacingly. "Blair has been nothing but selfish since she's been with us. She's almost killed Jace and could've seriously jeopardised things with the warlock. Clary and Jace could get seriously hurt in the court, and she's can't for one moment think that the whole world doesn't revolve around her. We all know about her _experience _in the Court, and yes, it couldn't have been a good one, but we need her help. Clary and Jace can't go into the Court alone. It's too dangerous. And what if something happens to them? Does Blair really want Clary and Jace in the same situation she was in?"

Blair was looking at the ground, her stance straight and stiff-backed, her hands clenched tightly. Her head was tilted to the side as she looked down, her hair covering her face. She was almost standing on her toes, as if ready to fight.

"She, of all people, understands just how dangerous a fey court can be, and she won't help. She knows and understands faeries better than any of us do, and she can't sacrifice herself this one time. How does she expect any of us to trust her?"

Everyone was silent, just waiting for Blair to react. Isabelle was standing arms over her chest, looking a little petulant.

"Fine," Blair flicked her head up abruptly, her voice so cold Isabelle thought she felt a frosty breeze. "I'll go. But just so you know, I don't want your bloody trust. It means nothing to me." Her Australian accent shone through for just a moment in her aggravation.

Then with a spin full of tension, and words under breath that the Shadowhunters thought sounded like, "Sacrifice is the perfect word to use," Blair walked towards the door. She stopped for a moment, her hand rested on the doorknob of the door. "If you need me, I'll be in my room hating you." The '_you' _she was referring to wasn't specific, but all three of the Shadowhunters had a feeling it wasn't supposed to be specific.

No one spoke for a moment, they all just looked to each other, until Alec, in mild surprise, came out with, "Was that an Australian accent?"

* * *

"We're going to go to the court tonight," Jace said to Blair as he stood in her doorway later that day.

"Sure," Blair answered, not looking at Jace, just reading a book about, as far as Jace could see, D.N.A. She was sitting on her bed, looking sulky.

"Why don't you want to go to the court? You can really help us," Jace said. In his head added, _do something good for once in your life. _

"Forget it, okay," Blair answered, sounding frustrated. "I'm going with you, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but if you're going to be all moody about it-"

Blair looked up and cut Jace off with, "Oh, screw you."

Jace didn't say anything. Tension built up between them. Finally, "I… I've dreamt, of you," he said reluctantly, as if he hated her, and it was her fault he felt guilty.

"I know," Blair said in a tone that could only have been described as victoriously malicious. There was no surprise or even shock that he'd brought it up so suddenly.

Jace couldn't ignore her superiority complex. "Of course, because you just know everything," Jace's voice pure fury and irritation masked under sarcasm.

"That's not true," Blair said mockingly. "I've no idea what you see in Clary." Of course, while this wasn't a lie – Blair couldn't literally see what Jace liked about Clary – it's wasn't exactly the truth. Blair could easily see why someone would like Clary. Blair, although she wouldn't admit, liked Clary. Clary was intelligent and strong in such a way that she hardly even noticed it. She held soundly to her morals and beliefs, and really knew who she was. Clary was just a likable person – something Blair figured she'd never be herself. 'Likeable' wasn't exactly a quality Blair had been gifted with. Well... at least, not since everything happened.

Jace's jaw locked in fury. "Because you may think you see everything, yet you fail to see even the slightest good in someone."

Blair didn't even bother answering Jace's comment. She was so tired of having this same fight with him. He was like the moral conscience she'd never had. And it irritated her that he was probably right. "Why did you tell me about the dreams? Was there something in particular you wanted to say to me? Or were you just planning on insulting me and hating me a little more? Because if that's the case, seriously, I can go to my sister for that. Hell, I could go to a lot of people for that."

Jace was breathing hard, and rage seemed to be racing around his veins. What was it about Blair that just made him so angry all the time? "When I first met Clary…" Jace was unsure about if he wanted to ask Blair this. He didn't really want the answer. But he felt he owed it to Clary. "When I first met Clary, a prophet told me I was going to… fall for the wrong person. At first I figured it was Clary, because I thought she was my sister. But, she's not." Jace's fists were clenched.

Blair raised her eyebrows. "And you're scared that I'm the wrong person? Your scared of falling for me?" There was almost an amusement in her tone.

Jace didn't answer.

"I can't read you when anger is the only emotion you're letting me see," she said with a tired sigh.

"I don't want you to read me! I want you to leave us alone. I'm happy with Clary. I love Clary."

Blair stared at him for a moment, and then her face changed. Jace couldn't make anything of it. She dropped her book and stood, moving a few feet away from Jace. "When I was living in the mundane world, I had a best friend - Mark. He, happened to have a girlfriend. She was always jealous of me, which, I thought was ridiculous because my best friend loved her. One day, unfortunately, he told me that he sometimes got confused. That he wasn't sure of who he loved." Blair's mouth was a hard line. "Yeah, you can just imagine how _happy_ I was to hear _that_." The sarcasm almost hurt Blair. "But, in the end, he always went back to her. His girlfriend."

Jace didn't understand the meaning behind the story. It was as if she loved this friend, but didn't want to hear that he loved her back.

"There was a reason why he always went back to her." Blair seemed angry now. "It was because _I_ was the wrong person. You can fall for the wrong person, but you'll never _be_ with the wrong person." Blair's anger left her, and she seemed deflated. "That's why they're called _the wrong person_." She paused again. "So don't act like this is my fault. Or that you and Clary are the only ones to get hurt. Because it's always the wrong person that gets hurt. It's always the wrong person that falls the hardest. I suppose it was fated." Blair laughed bitterly. "After all, they say I'm a fallen angel."

A thought struck Jace and anger boiled up again. Fine, so she understood love and destruction, so why in the hell would she try to destroy him and Clary? Why was she even telling him this? "Don't try to make me feel sorry for you," Jace said acidly. "I don't. You're just spoiled."

Blair's face changed to blankness. There was nothing Jace could read in her body language or facial expression. "Yes." This was all she said. One word. Then she turned around, picked up her book and sat back on her bed. "Don't take any weapons into the court and bow low to any royalty. The lower you bow, the more respect you show." Blair didn't look up as she said, "Shut the door on your way out."

* * *

**A/N: I have just put up a poll in my profile. The question is, if I were to write a prequel, who's perspective would you like to see it written from? *Note* None of the MI crew would be featured, it would just be set in Cassandra Clare's world. **

**The options are:**

1. Blair - what happens as she becomes a faery and loses her friends and family.

2. Jack - his life as a Dealer before he met Blair.

3. Mark (Blair's best friend from high school) - as Blair slowly changes.

4. Nat (Blair's vampire sister) - what happens as her parents die and she's forced to the Seelie Court, then a vampire coven.

5. Dee (Blair's werewolf sister) - what happens as her parents die and she's forced to the Seelie Court, then a werewolf pack.

6. Don't bother writing it if the Shadowhunters arn't going to be featured.

**Vote if you're interested.**

**Thanks to all who read.**

**-Jess**

**(Sorry, I admit this chapter was longer than what I usually write.)**


	14. The Seelie Court

**Chapter 13 – Seelie Court**

Blair led the way to the Seelie Court and was the first one to enter. She didn't say anything to either Clary or Jace on the way there – Jace had picked up Clary and they'd gone out for dinner beforehand (with Jocelyn's permission, of course).

Blair felt no need to talk, and neither Jace nor Clary made an effort to talk to her. Of course, she hardly expected them to, she'd been nothing but frosty to all of the Shadowhunters since their little spat in the weapons room. Or perhaps sulky was a more appropriate word. She knew she should just get over it – she had agreed to this – but it wasn't an easy thing to get over. Blair desperately just wished she could see Jack. He'd been able to save her from the Seelie Court, but it was _Shadowhunters_ that he wouldn't be able to save her from without becoming the focus of an investigation. And that wouldn't help either of them.

Blair had her suspicions of Jack. She knew what Jack did for a living, but they never talked about it. His trade wasn't pleasant, and Blair had no interest in it. She'd spoken to Freaky Pete, but he said he'd seen and heard nothing, and there'd been no talk between customers either – Blair had a feeling Atraco was doing a lot to keep all this quiet. Blair should've suggested she'd ask Jack about the Shadowhunter blood, but she'd purposely avoided it, and no one else had mentioned it. Of course they had no idea how involved Jack was with that sort of thing. And if he had been involved he'd probably have a good idea of who this Atraco was. Blair knew why she hadn't called him though – she was terrified to know if it was Jack that'd sold the Shadowhunter's blood. She was even more terrified to know where he got it from.

It was just before midnight when Jace, Clary and Blair reached the entrance to the Court. The moon held itself in the sky shining on Blair's human form ahead of Clary and Jace, illuminating that slight silver tinge to her skin.

When they tumbled through the slide of water and landed underground into the court, Blair's whole manner changed. Blair's body, taut with tension, seemed more alert than Clary had ever seen. Every muscle was active, ready and waiting. Clary had no idea what for.

Then, just as the previous time Jace and Clary had entered the court, Merilorn greeted them. Although, it was hardly friendly - it was nothing but cold; but Clary had noticed that faeries were never really warm. It was as if their immortality sucked the emotion out of them and left a deceitful, beautiful shell. Perhaps that was just because Merilorn was a soldier. Clary never liked to generalise. Merilorn's eyes lazily scanned the group of three. "You've returned," he said, voice monotone, as his eyes found Blair. He didn't even acknowledge Clary or Jace.

"No," she answered, finality echoing in the chamber. "I've come to watch over my friends."

Merilorn raised an eyebrow. "Friends?" The speculation in his voice dismissed the need for an answer. This was all he said, before he turned, and led them through the court. It was as beautiful and haunting and feral as the first time Clary had been to the court. It looked as if in over a year, nothing had changed; time seemed to have no effect on the fey.

The Queen, this time, was sitting openly in her court, watching over her dancing fey. A group milled about her; Clary assumed they were her entourage, of sorts. Food and drink was in abundance, and it made Clary's stomach turn a little. She was not interested in making that mistake again.

"I'm sure I hardly need to tell you this, but I will anyway," Blair whispered to both Clary and Jace. "Don't touch any of the food or drink. Don't dance with any faeries and for god's sake do not even think about agreeing to anything they invite you to. Don't get involved in any faery games or bets, because they will always win, and you will, more than likely, be at their complete mercy – not something you ever want. Trust me. Just… just do everything I tell you to."

As Jace, Clary and Blair approached the Queen with Merilorn, she stood with a sultry smile. "I do, so very much, welcome a visit from our Nephilim allies," she gestured openly. Jace, Clary and Blair bowed low to her. "And from such gifted ones as yourselves. I'm glad you've found the truth." Clary almost despised her false warmness and thought, _Not that you helped us in finding that truth_.

As the group stood, the Queen's eyes raked over Jace first, then Clary, till finally she settled on Blair. For a moment the Queen seemed stunned. She looked to Merilorn who answered the unasked question with, "She claims to be here to watch over her Shadowhunter _friends_."

"Friends?" The Queen gave a soft laugh, and after a second of delay the rest of the court also laughed. "Now, why would you need to make friends with Shadowhunters, when you had such good friends here?" The Queen's tone was nothing but patronising.

Blair had almost no reaction except for beginning to say, "I'm here to-"

The Queen quickly cut Blair off, as if scared of what she was going to say next. "Dextra," the Queen's voice changed completely, "We've missed you in the court." Clary couldn't pin the tone; it may have been demanding.

Blair took a breath, as readying herself to speak. "You all seem well enough without me." The confidence that Clary was so used to seeing in Blair was gone, as if it had simply drained away.

"And you seem so different. The human glamour doesn't suit you. Please, show us yourself, as was intended." This time Clary could clearly hear the challenge in the Queen's voice. She wondered what exactly had happened two years ago in this court. Blair would've only been fifteen, her sisters even younger. Blair slowly stripped her glamour away, and there was a collective gasp throughout the court. Evidently, Blair was famous. Or infamous.

"Dextra?" a male voice came from within the crowd. A tall faery emerged from behind the Queen; a small golden crown weaved in his hair. His beauty made Clary take in a breath, causing Jace to feel a pang of protective jealousy run through him. The faery's hair was a short, cold blue, so dark it was almost purple, eyes matching, slitted like a cat's. He had no wings, but his ears were pointed, and his fingers were long and curled with an extra joint. His skin was so pale it was almost translucent, and veins of black blood trailed up and down his arms.

"Perhaps, Shadowhunters, you have not met my son, Etihad," the Queen said, gesturing to the translucent faery.

Jace bowed again, tugging on Clary's shirt to make sure she followed suit. Blair only tipped her head. Clary was sure it would be seen as an insult, but there was no outcry.

"Oh, Dextra," Etihad said again, moving towards Blair. "How I have missed you so."

Blair's jaw locked, Clary noticing her hands balled into fists. Etihad took Blair's hands in his, kissing them both softly. Her stance was so stiff, it looked as if at one touch she would shatter, like glass heated and cooled too quickly. "Are you here to rejoin us?" While Etihad's words were pleasant, there was no pleasantness in his tone.

"No," Blair answered. "I cannot."

Etihad looked into Blair's eyes. "My beautiful wife, could you not even consider being with me again? You were such an asset to our court. The beauty of our court. We could never replace you."

"I do not wish to be an _asset_," Blair hissed, losing her calm for a second. Clary swore she saw her breath steam as she spat out the words.

"Wife?" Jace asked. If so, it would make sense that she should not bow as deep as Jace and Clary. She was almost an equal in the Seelie Court, above most of the other faeries.

Etihad's gaze lingered on Blair before moving to Jace and Clary. He let go of Blair's hands and took a step toward Jace. "Perhaps your Shadowhunter _friends_ do not know of your past, Dextra," he said, still looking at Jace.

"And I would appreciate your silence on my past," Blair said, still facing the Queen, her back towards Etihad. "If you could be so kind," she added as an afterthought. Though Clary could see Blair's teeth were practically clenched against the word _kind_.

Etihad walked back to Blair, putting his arms around her from behind and kissing her neck once. "As you wish."

Blair stood paralysed, her eyes wide and terrified. Jace had never seen her like this – even when he'd seen that insecurity in her, it wasn't nearly the same as the petrified fear in Blair now. "We need some help – a glimpse of your knowledge, should you be so kind as to let us see it," Blair said distantly, as if her words were rehearsed and recited. She sounded as unnatural as a newsreader. Clary had always noticed fey spoke differently, as if they belonged to a different world – well, Clary figured they sort of did – and now, in this situation, Blair also spoke like a faery.

Etihad held Blair as if she belonged to him, and turned his head to his mother. The Queen gave the slightest of nods and asked, "What knowledge is it that you speak of?"

Blair seemed to be unable to speak with Etihad touching her. Her breath was hitched and she had begun to shake in absolute panic. _What did he do to her?_ was all Jace could think.

It was Clary who took over. "Someone has been summoning demons. Demons designed to kill Shadowhunters specifically."

The Queen smiled a smile that could only be described as devious and answered, "Yes, I know of these demons, as I know of the one who summons them. But I've always believed that knowledge is the highest commodity, and should not be dispelled with carelessly. You, Clarissa Morganstern, dismissed my offer of a highly acclaimed debt, so now, you must pay for this knowledge you seek."

Jace clenched his jaw. Blair still seemed incapable of speech. "What is it you want?" Jace asked the Queen.

The Queen gestured towards Blair and Etihad. Etihad slowly turned Blair in his arms till she was facing him. "A dance," he said softly. "A dance with my beautiful wife, is all I ask."

"No," Clary and Jace both said in unison. Neither of them may have been all that fond of Blair, but they could both see the fear in her eyes, and the effect Etihad had on her. They'd never force her to do something that terrified her so.

The Queen stuck out her nose. "Then you shall be escorted out by Merilorn."

"I will do it," Blair said. Etihad grinned and took Blair by one hand, bowing elegantly towards the court. They made room on the dance floor as Blair opened out in a deep curtsey, glamouring her jeans and jacket away, for a long, flowing ball gown. It was a dark midnight blue that contrasted her wings like blood and water. Etihad guided Blair into the lights of the dance floor, and took her in his arms in a ballroom stance. For a few moments, there was complete silence in the court, then music – soft and lilting – started, and the couple began a dance of elegance and weightlessness.

Clary looked on in wonder. Both of them looked as if they glided over the floor like dancing was what they'd been designed for, and it was all they'd do for all eternity. Clary hated to admit that Blair and Etihad made a beautifully stunning couple. Her silver skin contrasted his translucent tone so perfectly that they looked like two ice statues melting on a spring day.

Blair, for the first time in three years, was able to keep up with Etihad. His grasp on her was firm, but she was able to grasp back. She knew Etihad could feel her strength, and she could taste his surprise and irritation. She wasn't as pathetic as she was the last time he'd seen her, and now, she was an equal, not his slave.

"You are different from when you left me. So different. I do not like it. I liked the old you," he said to her as he spun her in a challenge.

She threw her body into him, deflecting his attempt to make her trip and fall, and righting their balance, making their little skip seem like it was always meant to be in the dance. "Of course you did. I was nothing more than your pet," Blair spat at him.

"But I loved you, my dear."

"You know nothing of _love_," Blair said, disgust evident in her voice. "None of these fey do."

"And you know all about love, I suppose," Etihad asked her, looking her in the eye. "Your love for that mundane boy when you were masquerading as a human? Or your love for that disgusting vampire? Or even your love for the Shadowhunter boy?" Etihad laughed mockingly. "You do not even know who you love. You cannot say you know more than me about love. Love is a human emotion, and you, my beautiful Dextra, are not human."

"I was born human. I grew up human. I know what love is."

"But you don't understand it. You never will. You know that, just as much as I do. You can deny it, but it's the truth. You'll break that vampire of yours with only your words."

Blair didn't answer for a moment. She threw a glance towards Clary and Jace. Jace had unconsciously pulled Clary into him protectively. Generally showing any kind of emotion or affection in a faery court led to trouble. She should've mentioned that to Jace and Clary, but she'd forgotten, being too distracted with the fear of seeing Etihad again. Fey got a kick out of messing with mortals and when mortals so openly showed what was close to them, faeries exploited that knowledge. One thing Blair had noticed was that fey courts usually brought out those strong irrational emotions in mortals, and the faeries did nothing but draw amusement from it.

"What did you want to prove?" Blair asked, turning her head back to Etihad.

"Prove?" Etihad questioned.

"With this, the dance? And your mother?"

"I want you back. I want you to come back to me. To where you belong."

Blair shook her head. "I do not belong here. I have never belonged here."

"Then where do you belong?" Etihad asked her. "You don't belong in the human world, or the Shadowhunter world."

"I'll find my place. All I know is that it's not here. It never will be."

"Could I not persuade you otherwise?" Etihad asked, as he slowed the dance, and pulled Blair into him so their bodies were tightly pressed together. Blair's breathing became uneven, fear rolling through her body. His lust was bitter sweet in her mouth. Then, Eithad grabbed her head and pulled her into a kiss.

Jace, watching the dance, gasped as Etihad kissed Blair. There was such an intensity that it almost made Jace feel uncomfortable. But there was something else in the kiss. It reminded him so much of his kiss with Clary in the Seelie Court. A complete desire, and absolute disgust. _Desire is not always lessened by disgust._

Blair pulled away, ripping herself from Etihad's arms, shaking so forcefully Jace wondered how she was able to shout her next words, "Are you all satisfied?!" She was breathing hard, and she turned to the Queen. "Is there anything else you want to take from me?!"

The court was silent. Blair walked away from Etihad without looking back, and moved towards Jace and Clary. "Our information?" she asked harshly of the Queen.

The Queen seemed momentarily stunned into silence, then caught herself and said, "Atraco. He is a mundane. He thinks of himself as a kind of demon hunter. He feels he is ridding the world of a higher power, in order to make everyone equal."

"A mundane?" Blair asked. She turned to Jace and Clary. "Lenka mentioned a mundane. She said a human gave her the Shadowhunter's blood. She assumed he was just being used as a paid delivery service. At a guess, I'd be willing to bet he's the mundane we're looking for."

Jace and Clary froze, looking to each other and recalling what the warlock had told them.

////

"_A mundane met me there with instructions," the warlock had said. _

"_A mundane?"_

_"Yes. He had the Sight. He had also been hired. He gave me the instructions and everything else I needed."_

_////_

"Did this mundane have the Sight?" Clary asked the Queen.

The Queen smiled a sly smile that instantly made Jace and Clary wary. Blair knew the Queen well enough to know that she was just making Jace and Clary feel uncomfortable. "Yes."

"And he wants to get rid of Shadowhunters in order to make everyone in the world equal?" Jace asked.

"Yes."

"We need to call Alec, get Magnus to start looking for Sighted humans," Jace said quickly. He looked to the Queen and bowed. "We thank you for this. Could you please have Merilorn escort us out?"

"I feel I have received the worse end of this deal. Perhaps you–"

Blair cut the Queen off so abruptly, the whole court gasped, "No. No. You've taken enough from me. We are done here. I know this court well enough to escort my friends out. Thank you for the information, but there is nothing else you deserve from us. Goodbye." Blair's voice wasn't strong, but her words seemed powerful enough. She turned, Jace and Clary following her lead.

Then, Etihad's voice could be heard in a sing-song shout. "You belong to me."

Blair stopped moving, but didn't turn. "I belong to no one, least of all you, Etihad." It was the first time Clary had heard Blair use Etihad's name, and it was said with so much conviction Clary almost felt the absolute loathing that Blair harboured for him. _What had he done to her?_

* * *

As Jace, Clary and Blair left the court, a confused vibe fell around them. No one said anything as Jace called Alec and Isabelle, telling them what'd happened and who Atraco was. It was just after one as they walked back to the Institute.

Clary was the first one to speak. "Dextra? Why did they call you Dextra?"

Blair was a few steps ahead of Jace and Clary, but it was clear that the question was directed at her. "It's my fey name. My true name." Blair didn't look at Clary as she answered, instead just kept walking ahead.

"And you were married to the prince of the Seelie Court?" Jace asked.

"I am still married to him. Fey don't have divorce lawyers." The joke fell flat as the words left Blair's lips.

"But… that was two years ago," Clary sounded incredulous. "You would've only been… fifteen."

"Time and age is irrelevant to fey. They live underground for all their lives; they hardly notice the difference between day and night."

"You had to marry him in exchange for your sister's freedom?" Jace guessed with an awful feeling of certainty.

Blair's step faltered for a second. "I don't regret it. They're my sisters." She tipped her head down to look at Jace and Clary over her shoulder. "I know any one of you Shadowhunters would've done the same thing." She gave almost a cynical laugh. "Shadowhunters always do that kind of thing; the noble and honourable thing."

Clary relaxed slightly. She'd always thought of Blair as spoiled. Hating her gift, which was such a blessing. She had all this power and could read emotions and runes so easily. Clary thought she was unappreciative. But she had every right to hate what she had. All her life, it had ruined her. It killed her parents and destroyed her sisters. It left her homeless on New York streets, miles from where she'd grown up. She couldn't love anyone, for fear they would be hurt or killed by her world. The only person that had even almost loved her had done nothing but exploit her. And when she did love someone, she couldn't trust them. When she loved someone, they'd loved someone else. Clary supposed that was why she would put her trust in a vampire that'd saved her. He'd never loved her romantically. And she'd never loved him romantically.

"How did you get away?" Jace wanted to know. "You were married to the prince and forced into servitude. Fey aren't exactly known for forgiveness."

"Jack. Jack saved me."

"And those are the fey that killed your parents?" Clary asked.

"Yes."

Clary looked at Jace for a moment, remembering. "That's why everyone knows who you are? As a faery?"

"Yes. I'm known as the faery slut amongst Downworlders." Blair gave a bitter laugh.

"Why didn't you ever tell us?" Jace's tone was almost accusatory.

Blair gave an ungraceful snort, still not looking at either Jace or Clary. "Because what gave any of you the right to know. You took me away and forced me to train as a Shadowhunter against my will." Blair suddenly stopped and turned, staring at Jace and Clary intently. "Tell me, what makes you any different from the fey of the Seelie Court?"

There was silence. Blair looked to the sky and took a breath, closing her eyes. She turned away from Clary and Jace quickly.

"I'm going to see Jack," she said quickly. "I'll be back before morning." She paused for a moment, but didn't turn to face Jace and Clary. Jace had a feeling she may have been hiding tears. "If I'm not, there's a bookstore I like to go to when… when I'm…" Blair stopped, as if forming a sentence was a struggle for her, took a few short, shallow breaths and started again. "There's a bookstore called _Intrigue _not far from the Institute. If you need me, I'll probably be there." Then, flicking up a glamour of invisibility, she flew upward and away from everything.

* * *

**A/N: Hope everyone liked the chapter, and perhaps understands Blair's… emotional issues a little more. Keep the reviews coming in and don't forget to vote on the poll. **

**Jess**


	15. A Kiss

**Chapter 14 - Kiss**

Blair arrived at Jack's doorstep, in tears. He'd heard her land and opened the door, just as she collapsed into his arms.

"Oh, babe," he said softly into her now unglamoured black hair, "What happened? What did they do to you?"

"I saw Etihad again," she said through choked sobs.

Jack stiffened without meaning to, and immediately swept Blair into his arms, shutting the front door and moving her to the living room. He sat on the couch, holding Blair to his body, making sure her wings weren't crushed against him, and murmured soft poetry in her ear in the Afrikaans accent he only reserved for really tough times.

It took an hour of so for Blair to calm down enough from her fear, depression and desperation to actually speak again. Jack didn't ask for the story, mostly because she didn't want to tell it, and he didn't want her to have to re-live it. He made her a hot drink as she sat on the couch, staring at the blank TV.

"Are you hungry?" he asked her.

"Not really." Her voice was still slightly shaky.

With two hot mugs Jack came back to the lounge and sat beside Blair, handing her a drink. She took it for a moment, had a sip, and then placed it on the coffee table. Jack worried about her silence, but didn't say anything. If she wanted to talk, she would.

When Blair's eyelids had begun to droop, Jack took Blair to her room, put her in some more comfortable clothes and let her crawl into bed. It took a couple of hours, but eventually Blair fell asleep.

Sleep wasn't really a problem for Jack, so he just stayed up to watch Blair; make sure she was okay. She only slept for a few hours or so before she woke. She woke up struggling to breathe as panic over took her. The sun had just begun to slide its way into daylight. Jack soothed her softly until her breathing fell into a more natural rhythm. They moved back into the living room and Jack made Blair some tea. She only had a few sips before she put the cup down and didn't touch it again. He had to make her forget. He had to get her out of this hole before she fell too far to ever get back again. It'd taken too much of her, and him, last time. He couldn't do it all again, and he doubted she could either. "Dance with me," Jack said suddenly with a grin.

Blair only shook her head.

"Come on," Jack teased, "dance with me. You know you want to."

He lazily turned on some heavy romantic slow song and sauntered mockingly to Blair.

She laughed, genuinely laughed, for first time since she'd been taken from Jack. He held out a hand and she took it. He twisted her into him, flickering silver and crimson. They joked around for a while, until Blair rested her head on Jack's shoulder, suddenly exhausted.

He wrapped his arms around her as the swayed softly to the music.

She didn't want to be a Shadowhunter. She didn't want the demons and the runes and the pain. The death.

She wanted to go back to her normal life. Her parents who weren't dead. Her sisters who weren't transforming animals or sulky vampires. Her high school education. Her best friend. Australia. She hadn't been back to Australia in two years. She missed it so much. The less busy city and harsh sun. The whipping weather and accents. Her home.

Most of the time Blair figured that Jack was her best friend's replacement. Mark was his name. Mark's replacement. Sometimes Blair figured that Jack was the replacement for the older brother she'd always wanted. And only for split second did she figure Jack was the replacement for the boyfriend she'd never had.

"Look at me Blair," Jack whispered in her ear. She turned to face him. He lifted a hand to her face and wiped away tears she hadn't even noticed.

Suddenly, she was embarrassed. She turned her head and tried to pull away. The music was still beating softly in the background. Jack pulled her harder into him. "No. Tell me what's going on."

"I just…" Blair sighed. "I'm just tired. And I missed you."

Jack nodded. Their faces were abruptly close. "I missed you."

Then, Jack kissed her. Blair was so completely surprised that her knees gave way. Jack caught her and held her, his hands around her waist. Blair was almost never surprised by acts of emotion; she could usually taste them, pre-empt them. But this was so off guard she was in complete shock.

When she eventually found her footing again, she pulled away with as much force as possible. "What are you doing?" she breathed out heavily. She wasn't sure if it was panic, fear, shock or the kiss that was causing her to breathe unevenly. All her mind could think was, _why?_ Thoughts and memories were running through her head so fast she couldn't catch one to focus on. Her brain was acting as if it was over loaded and she couldn't even come up with a reaction. Every time her thoughts came to a stop all her mind gave her was, _WHY?!_

Jack looked as if the words pained him. She couldn't taste any of his emotion. He must've been blocking it from her somehow. Jack gave a bitter laugh. "Not exactly the response I was going for."

"What were you expecting?!"

Jack didn't answer. He just stared at her.

Anger flared through Blair. She threw up her glamour, and left the house running.

Jack clenched his fists. Anger was there, but mostly it was hurt. The way she had thrown him off her as if he disgusted her. The way she asked him what he was doing as if he'd tried to kill her rather than just kiss her. Although, perhaps Blair would've preferred it if he had tried to kill her. At least that was something she could relate to.

He knew where she'd go. He waited an hour or so, trying to cool himself down, while also giving her time. Then, he left the house.

* * *

Whenever Blair was upset, she went to her favourite store. Now, Blair was never a fashion girl, so her favourite store was this massive, dust, seedy used bookstore in one of the lesser districts of New York City. It was called _Intrigue, _which Jack knew was the reason why she liked the store. It had this one coffee table, hidden in the back, which Blair sat at so she could read one of the thousands of second hand novels that came through the shop. It was almost ten in the morning, so the store would be open.

There was always this one surly owner, named Beverly, who only seemed to like Blair. Jack said hello on his way in, and Beverly only grunted at him, reading a dog-eared book.

And, as Jack expected, this was exactly where he found Blair. She was hidden away in between the stacks of books that were at the back of the store. Dust seemed to settle over everything in almost an artistic way, and the light was so dim, Jack hardly wondered why humans were too scared to venture beyond the dirty windows of the store.

Jack knew, of course, that Blair would sense him – she probably knew the moment he had reached the block – but she didn't look at him.

"Mind if I sit here?" Jack asked, gesturing to the chair opposite Blair's.

"No," she said, but the moment Jack sat down, she stood, moving to one of the shelves and picking out books. Jack let out a frustrated sigh and tried to read her emotions, but she was blocking him with all her might.

Jack stood, and fell into step close to Blair. "We should talk."

"I'm alright, thanks," she said, as if she was doing him favour. She didn't look at him.

"Blair," Jack said softly.

Suddenly she spun, her hot white fury burning his mouth. "What, Jack? You kissed me! What else is there?" She was breathing hard.

Jack leaned into her, as a challenge. She stubbornly didn't move away. "You. Kissed. Back."

"I was in shock." Her words were venomous.

"So, you didn't like it at all?" Jack shot at her. "Tell me, that there was nothing there."

Blair opened her mouth to lie, but it died in her throat. "That's not the point," she said finally. "This," she waved her hand between them, "has never been us."

Jack rolled his eyes. "That's not true. You always scared away any girl I liked. I could taste your jealously. And you knew I got pissed when you brought home guys. You knew I hated you working at the Hunter's Moon. The only reason I let you work there is because of your sister."

"You _let me_," she said with disgust, exaggerating the words. "_Let me_. You don't own me." She said it through gritted teeth. "I'm not some girl you have on a leash that you can _let_ out when you want to. You don't have control over me."

"That's not what I mean," Jack said. His rage was coming back. "You know that."

"You still said it." Blair twisted away, pulling a few more books from the shelves. She now had six in her arms.

"Blair." She didn't respond. "Blair!" Again, nothing. "Damn it, Blair," Jack said as he reached for her. She was suddenly five feet away, hovering just slightly above the ground, wings framed around her and her back to the books shelves.

"Don't touch me," she said, her chest moving up and down in time with her livid heartbeat.

"Just a few hours ago you said you missed me."

"I did. Before you went and kissed me. I just… why, Jack? Why would you do that?" She was yelling. Jack didn't think she even realised.

"Why?" he asked rhetorically back. "Why? Because you were crying on my shoulder. You were glowing silver and you were pressed against me. Because in that moment you looked so sad and beautiful it physically _hurt_ me. Because you told me that when the Shadowhunters found you, you'd be dead. That's why." Jack only realised _he_ was shouting when the silence closed in around him after he'd finished. This time, he was quieter, "You act as if there is nothing between us. I've saved you, and you've saved me. And yet, you act like there is nothing." Jack paused. Then, with so much emotion in his voice, he doubted even Blair would be able to decipher it, "There's always been something."

And before Blair had time to move, Jack walked forward, wrapping one arm around her neck, into her hair, the other hand on the small of her back and pushed her back against the book shelves. The books she'd been holding fell out of her hands and onto the floor as Jack put his mouth over hers. Blair wound her arms over Jack's shoulders, and pulled him into her as she opened her lips.

Jack lifted Blair up and sat her on one of the shelves as she wrapped her legs around him. Jack exhaled just the smallest amount as he felt her thighs tighten around him.

"Hold me," she breathed. Jack pushed her harder against the books as the dust shimmered around them. Blair slid her hands from Jack's neck over his chest, then around his waist and under the back of his shirt, playing her fingers over his spine.

He groaned lightly and began kissing Blair's neck. She pushed him against her, as if she could somehow make them one person, and Jack felt her body shake slightly.

He wanted her. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anyone before. And he'd had women. He'd had vampires, warlocks, and other Downworlders. He'd even had faeries before. Fairies that made him want them like drugs. But this, this was different. He wanted Blair like it would hurt him if he didn't get it. Like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment. Like he'd never really experienced happiness or pleasure before this instant. Just kissing Blair was so much more than having sex with any other girl. Jack felt the dusting of a glamour of invisibility Blair had quickly put over them.

At that moment Blair pulled Jack's shirt over his head, revealing the scar that slashed over his chest. The very scar that was a wound she'd saved him from. They were apart for a split second before Blair pulled him into her again. It was Jack's turn. Only he didn't let them part. He literally ripped Blair's shirt from her, her wings squashed by the bookshelf.

"Please," Blair pleaded. Jack didn't know what she was asking for so he just pressed against her, kissing her with more force. He felt her muscles tense and relax underneath his body.

Jack ran a hand up over Blair's leg, which was curled around his waist, and just wished she weren't wearing jeans. In an instant, the jeans were gone, Blair having done something with her magic. Jack gripped her thigh and tried to pull her into him.

She ran her hands down his chest, and began undoing the belt at his jeans.

Jack was breathing hard in anticipation.

Then, Blair froze. "Someone's here."

"So. It's a store. People are going to come in. No one can see us anyway."

Blair shook her head. "It's Jace."

It took a moment for Jack to process the words. "Jace? How does he know you're here?"

"I told him that this was a place I liked to come when I was upset. And… something happened, before, between us."

Betrayal stung at Jack's chest. He didn't say anything.

Jack felt the invisibility glamour disappear as Blair unwrapped her legs from him. She put up her human glamour and replaced her jeans in a matter of seconds. Her shirt was torn and ripped so she just glamoured on a new one. Jack was frozen. Blair threw his shirt at him, which he only caught out of reflex.

"Quick. Put it on. Jace is coming."

Blair went to move away, Jack grabbed her hand, spinning her into him, and kissing her again. She let him, for a moment, before pulling away and saying, "I have to go."

"No. You don't. Stay with me." Jack could hear the desperate plea in his voice.

"I have to go," Blair just repeated. Again, she tried to turn away, and again Jack pulled her into him, kissing her hard. This time she pulled away with more force.

"Don't torture yourself," she said. Pain ricocheted through his body as if someone had shot him, and he suddenly found it hard to breath, even though, technically he didn't have to breathe. It would have been more painless if Blair had just electrocuted him with a thousand volts.

"Don't go," his voice had no confidence; it was small and full of pain. He'd never felt so insignificant in his life. "I know you don't want this life."

Then Jace rounded the corner in gold and black, skimming over Jack and looking at Blair. "We need you," he said. "We found Atraco."

"Please Blair," Jack begged.

Blair took one last look at Jack, then said to Jace, "I'm coming."

And she left. Just like that.

Jack felt as if he were in some kind of video game. A game where he worked so hard to get to the final prize, but there was one more battle – Jace – till he actually won. And he'd just lost. Which meant going back to the start. Beginning again.

He felt himself shut down.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, well, I hope I showed you some of Blair's more human qualities, and brought out her less perfect side. I really like Jack's character, so I'm hoping everyone else does too, and I'll reveal him a little more in later chapters. If anyone's looking for a taster of Jack's history, review or PM me (make sure that I have a way to reply) and I'll PM/send you a small bit I wrote on Jack in WWI. And don't forget about the poll on my profile. **

**Thanks to all. Review and Vote. **

**Jess**


	16. Atraco

**Chapter 15 - Atraco**

Jace eyed Blair and her stiff, shaky posture. The way she'd left Jack seemed… wrong. When Jace had seen him, Jack looked like Blair had just destroyed him. Now Blair looked emotionless and… uncomfortably rigid. "What happened?" Jace asked Blair as they left the bookstore.

"What do you mean?" Blair's voice was devoid of any tone.

"With Jack. I don't have to taste emotions to know something happened."

"He just… did something unexpected."

"And you didn't want him to."

Blair tried to talk, but she didn't know what the lie was. It wasn't that she wanted him to kiss her, but when he had, she hadn't exactly wanted him to stop. "It goes both ways."

Jace looked at her as they crossed the road and he hailed a cab. "You did and you didn't want him to do whatever it was that he did."

"Yes. Exactly." Confusion filtered through her brain.

"So, how come you didn't want him to do it?" Jace added some instructions to the cab driver as they both got in the car.

Blair thought about telling Jace to forget it and leave her alone, but she was so tired of fighting him. She was so tired of everything that'd happened in the last week. And she almost wanted to tell Jace – considering she didn't have Jack now. Instead she sighed resignedly and said, "Because it screws up everything." And it did. Nothing would be the same, Blair was well aware of that. They couldn't just go back to being friends. Not after seeing the pain on Jack's face as she had left the bookstore. She wondered if he'd recover from that – or if she would. Blair was well aware that she'd probably just destroyed the only shred of friendship and trust she'd had in the last two years.

"Then how come you did want him to do it?"

Blair sighed. "Because it's Jack. And there's always been something there." Sure, she'd thought about it, but it'd never been… anything. Jack always had other girls, and while Blair didn't actually have trusting relationships with other guys – not since Etihad anyway – she had been on and off with a few guys since the Seelie Court. Even so, she'd never shown any interest in Jack. There had never even been any romantic emotions between them. Unless… well, unless she'd missed it. Or perhaps, it'd always been there and she'd become so used to the taste she just didn't notice it anymore – kind of like when you first walk into a swimming pool, the smell of chlorine is obvious, but the more time you spend there, the less you notice it.

"Are you okay?"

"No." But then, Blair hadn't been _okay _since she'd last seen Etihad. No, that wasn't true. She hadn't been okay since she'd _first_ seen Etihad.

"When we left him, he kind of looked like you'd just stabbed him in the back with a knife and twisted it. What did _you_ do?" Jace wasn't accusing her of anything, Blair knew that, but guilt still ricocheted through her.

"I did the closest, and worse thing, I could've done above lying."

"What's that?"

"I didn't say anything at all." Blair closed her eyes and tipped her head back on the vinyl seat cover. _You'll break that vampire of yours with only your words_, Etihad had said. He'd been wrong. Blair was going to break Jack with no words at all. "So, how did you find Atraco anyway? And so quickly?" Change of subject was probably best. Blair had never been good at heart-to-heart conversations. She just wasn't that sort person. She didn't believe anyone should need to dump all their problems and feelings onto someone else. It's not fair to do that to another person anyway.

"Well, considering the search had been narrowed to humans with the Sight, Alec asked Magnus if he were able to find all humans with the Sight in New York. And he used some magic thing to do with tracking and… well, I don't _actually_ know what he did. But the point is he found him."

"Where?"

"Magnus gave an address, and apparently Atraco is living out of some condemned apartment building. A few humans have died there because the place was unsafe, so they condemned it."

"When you say 'died because the place was unsafe', do you mean die from asbestos or perhaps demons?" Blair was sceptical. Sure, demons weren't the cause of every problem in the world, but generally, when it came to human deaths, the demons were pretty good at collecting a death toll.

"Why would you suspect demons?"

"You probably already know this, but there are, I guess you could call them 'demon hotspots' and demons just seem to crowd around these places." Blair stopped, then added, "I don't know why."

Jace cut in, kind of feeling a little triumphant that he knew something Blair didn't. "It's because the lining between the dimensions are thinner, so it's easier for the demons to get to Earth." Jace paused for a moment. "Well, at least that's the theory."

Blair shrugged, "It's a good theory. I didn't know that. Anyway, generally – you'd also know this – these spots tend to be hard to find unless you happen stumble across it with a Sensor. I don't even think fey can sense them–"

"But you can?" Jace asked tiredly, a little over the fact that Blair seemed to be able to just do _everything_.

Blair shook her head. "That's just it. I can't. I mean, I can taste all the demon activity, but other than that they are just normal human places. But I stumbled along one last year. At first I didn't realise what it was, I could just taste a lot of demon activity. Then, a few demons just suddenly appeared. That was when I figured out what the place was. I wasn't armed, and not ready to fight that number of demons without weapons, so I ran, not really taking note of the place. Of course, I wasn't able to find it again when I went looking. Anyway, if this Atraco knows what he's doing – and I get the feeling he does – this apartment building may just be one of these hotspots."

"But how would he be able to find it, if even fey can't sense these spots?"

"Even though fey may not be able to sense these places, fey have been around for a long time, and have probably found them by accident. The Queen talked about it once when I was in the court…" Blair's muscles clenched for a moment, and her eyebrows frowned, as if she was trying to recall a distant memory. "I can't really remember what they said, except that they were talking about it." Blair stopped talking, and tugged at her lip in concentration. Jace wondered why Blair wouldn't have remembered. He knew that fey usually had very good memories and almost never forgot things. Why would Blair have forgotten something like this? Perhaps she just didn't want to remember. Jace wasn't sure. Blair shook her head, as if to clear it and said, "Did you wonder why the Seelie Queen knew so much about Atraco?"

Jace remembered for a moment. "You think she met him? Atraco?"

Blair thought about it for a moment, and then turned to Jace, "I think she may have told him what he needed to know in order to do what he wants. I wouldn't doubt that the Queen told Atraco where one of these hotspots were if she was offered something in return. I could taste something she wasn't telling us. I thought about asking her, but I just wasn't going to push our luck any further."

"Why would she tell him this?"

"He must've offered her something she couldn't refuse. Which, of course, should give us cause to worry. There's little the Queen wants other than power and…" Blair trailed off and gave a brief glance at Jace, before quickly turning her head the other way, looking at the New York streets rushing past the window.

"What?" Jace asked. "What else would the Queen want? You seem to know her pretty well."

Blair wouldn't look at him. "Nothing. Just forget it."

"What do you know, Blair?" Jace's voice was serious, and unconsciously he grabbed her hand.

Blair flicked her head towards where their skin touched, and Jace immediately let go of her. "It's not worth it, Jace. Just leave it alone. It doesn't mean anything."

Their gazes met, and for a split second, Jace wondered if Blair was talking about something other than the Seelie Queen.

Blair averted her eyes, just imagining what Atraco must've traded the Queen for the information. She could only think of one thing the Queen wanted. Something she'd lost a year and a half ago. Blair should've known the Seelie Court wouldn't just give up. Etihad wanted Blair back. And the Queen had found a way to do it.

* * *

"I think we should tell Mom what we know," Alec rationalised as everyone sat on a lounge set Magnus had made appear at a click of his fingers. The coffee table was the design of a yin yang and the couches and armchairs were smooth gold leather.

"We tell Mom and she'll kill us," Isabelle argued, sitting on one of the arms of the couches, her golden whip matching the leather.

"Anyway, she'll just tell the Inquisitor and we won't get to kill anything," Jace added.

Clary rolled her eyes at Jace and said, "We can hardly just walk into an abandoned apartment building and ask the nearest demon if Atraco is home. We'll need to tell someone where we are going in case we need help."

There was a crash from the kitchen and Blair called out to Magnus, "Um… I think I broke something. It's okay, I'll fix it."

Magnus shrugged and called back, "What are you doing in there?"

"You got anything to drink?"

"What did you want? I can get coffee or tea–"

"Rose wine?" Blair asked, poking her head around the kitchen door to look at Magnus.

Magnus raised his eyebrows. "Rose wine? A little heavy for midday."

"I could use something heavy."

Magnus nodded. "Sure. I think I still have some left over from the last party I had. I invited some sylphs," he explained.

Blair rolled her eyes. "Of course you did."

"Try the cupboard in the corner, under the sink. It'll be under a glamour of drain cleaner. If there's none there, then I don't have any."

"Thanks, Magnus," Blair said as her head disappeared. She came out about a minute later with a glass of thick, transparent liquid with streaks of pink, red and white chasing each other through the drink like tiny sprites. "No wonder I couldn't find it. You've got elm roots under that sink. That masks the smell of everything. And I hope that's only for when fey visit." Blair gave a pointed look at Magnus. "Elm roots aren't good for warlocks."

Magnus gave an uneasy shrug. "Let's just say I learnt my lesson, and never again."

"Elm roots?" Jace asked.

Blair waved her hand, as if to dismiss the question. "A faery drug. To fey it gives a slight heady feeling and if you're lucky, hallucinations. It'll kill humans very quickly, but to Downworlders… well, let's just say I've seen a vampire run around as a wolf for a whole night, because they thought they'd been turned into a werewolf. Not that I want to mention any names."

"Jack," Magnus coughed out. Blair grinned at him.

"Okay, perhaps we should get back to the situation at hand," Alec muttered, hating the way Magnus and Blair just clicked. Why did they click? Alec didn't get it. Magnus was almost protective of her.

"Magnus knows where we're going," Jace began, "and what we plan on doing. If we don't come back before dark, then he can call Maryse."

"So then I can be dragged into this and Maryse gets angry at me. I don't think so," Magnus said, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking away from Alec.

"Not scared of Maryse, are you, Magnus?" Isabelle teased with a smile.

"She's my boyfriend's mother. If Alec gets hurt, it's on my head. Of course I'm scared of her. Especially if I let all of you go off alone into a dangerous building that's demon infested. How am I supposed to explain that?"

"Good to know you're worried about me, rather than what my Mom thinks of you," Alec muttered sarcastically.

"Don't you start," Magnus shot at him.

Alec stood up and moved to Magnus, looking him in the eyes. "Please. Please, Magnus. Do this for me."

Magnus paused for moment, as if frozen by Alec's good looks, then sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine. But you ever manipulate me like that again, Alec Lightwood, and I'll–"

"I didn't manipulate you," Alec protested.

"Oh please. All blue eyes and 'please, Magnus'," Magnus imitated. "That, is manipulation if I ever saw it. You took advantage of my weaken–"

"Okay," Jace cut in. "Let's save the lover's quarrel for another day, shall we, and get back to the Atraco situation."

At that comment Magnus gave an exasperated sigh, rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen muttering something about teenagers, arrogance and Shadowhunters. Alec shot a dirty look at Jace, who brushed it off with a shrug and a triumphant smirk.

"We'll have to go back to the Institute for weapons," Isabelle suggested.

"I'll pick up Simon," Clary offered. "He'll be eager to help, and we could always use his aim." Since becoming a vampire Simon's skill with a bow and arrow had only improved, and he was more competent with it than Alec, Jace _and_ Isabelle. "And, of course, his vampire skills."

"Look, I think this is probably a little too big for us to deal with on our own," Blair told them, her voice serious. Magnus came back into the room and sat in an armchair, not looking at Alec. Alec just kept glancing sulkily towards his direction.

"The invincible faery doesn't want a fight?" Jace asked with mocking sarcasm. It wasn't harsh, but Blair got the sense that Jace felt as if she was being hypocritical. "Why not?"

"I just think we don't know enough about Atraco. Obviously, he can manipulate people into doing what he wants, and he seems to have Downworld contacts. Also, he knows what he's doing. I just think this is something to be cautious about."

"We'll be careful. There's six of us," Isabelle said. "And we've got Magnus."

"And what about those _oni_ demons in the subway?" Blair reminded them. "I'll admit you're all good at killing demons–"

"Was that a compliment?" Jace asked quickly, smirking again.

Blair looked at him with a competing smirk and finished her sentence with, "And those demons still kicked your asses. Don't you think that perhaps you're in over your heads, and this is the reason the Clave, and Maryse, wanted us to stay out of this?"

"You weren't so hesitant before," Jace observed, looking carefully at Blair. "Is this about the Seelie Queen? You're worried about how she might be involved."

"Just… trust me. I know the Queen. This is just too dangerous with the Seelie Court involved."

"What do you know?" Jace asked. "And why are you hiding it from us?"

Blair took a drink and shook her head. "Can you just… trust me this time? Please?"

There was collective silence, even Magnus wasn't saying anything. Magnus knew Blair was probably right and he was worried about Alec… "What about if I come too?" he directly asked Blair. "Would that make you feel safer?" That way Magnus could look out for Alec while also keeping an eye on Blair.

Blair pursed her lips, obviously not happy. She turned to the Shadowhunters. "You guys are going to go anyway, aren't you? No matter what I say, right?"

"Probably," Jace shrugged and answered truthfully.

Blair sighed sounding frustrated, her voice tight. "Fine. Whatever."

"I'll set up an automatic message to be sent to the Institute if we're not home by dark," Magnus told them.

"I can pick up Simon," Clary said.

"And Alec, Jace, Blair and I can go back to the Institute to get weapons," Isabelle suggested.

"Meet back here in an hour?" Alec asked, looking to Magnus. He nodded.

"Sounds good," Isabelle said, jumping off the couch lightly. "Thanks, Magnus. Now, let's go."

"Yeah, we really appreciate this, Magnus. Thanks," Clary said politely. Then to Jace and Isabelle, "I'll call Simon." Clary moved outside dialling Simon's number into her cell phone.

Just as Isabelle and Jace were leaving, talking tactics, Alec waited to say goodbye to Magnus. But when Alec turned to the living room, no one was there. He could hear Magnus and Blair's voices in Magnus's bedroom. He was tempted to press his ear against the door, but knew that both Blair and Magnus would know he was there, and he didn't want to seem pathetic. Instead, Alec stalked out of the apartment in a sulky silence.

* * *

"Dee's fine," Magnus told Blair as they talked in his bedroom. "Freaky Pete's been keeping an eye out for her. She's still living with Greg and Alice and Hayden and staying out of trouble." Greg and Alice were a werewolf couple in their mid-twenties that had taken on Hayden – a fourteen-year-old werewolf – and Dee – Blair's little sister. Both Hayden and Dee had only been children when they'd been turned into wolves and Greg and Alice had basically adopted them. They were all in Luke's pack, but lived in a small apartment near the police station/Chinese take-out place where Luke's pack resided. Hayden had become Dee's best friend. Blair was so relieved that she'd been able to so easily make friends. Of course, Dee had always been the social butterfly, so it was hardly surprising that everyone liked her.

Blair nodded. "And Nat?"

"She was involved in a tussle last week with some werewolves, but she was the one that broke up the fight, of course," Magnus said. Nat may not have liked werewolves, but Dee was still her sister, and Blair knew Nat didn't hold that same hatred that most vampires did.

"And she's okay?"

"Yeah, fine. She's able to hold her ground. You of all people should know that."

Blair sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I should. But she's still my little sister. Even if she hates me at the moment."

"She doesn't hate you," Magnus said. "She's just upset."

Blair shook her head, but didn't say anything about it. "Look, I've got to go. Thanks for this. I would get Jack to do it, but you have more contacts – more reliable contacts at least. And people… well, people either hate Jack or deal with him, and I don't want to get involved with all that. Also, I trust you."

"And I'm magnificent," Magnus joked.

"Yeah, and that," Blair nodded with a smile. "Just… thanks."

"Blair, I don't mind. Any time."

* * *

"Wow," Simon said as Clary finished telling him the story of the Seelie Court and Blair. She'd met him at his house while Jace and the others picked up weapons from the Institute. "So, basically she's screwed up."

"Simon!" Clary scolded.

"Well… it's true isn't it?"

Clary mumbled something under her breath that wasn't quite words. Then she quickly asked, "You haven't been hearing other people's thoughts yet? Voices in your head?" Guilt still racked her. She'd been itching to talk to Simon alone ever since Blair had mentioned his mark and what could happen to him. It was why Clary had offered to pick him up.

"No," Simon shook his head, his hair parting ironically so Clary could see the mark she'd cursed him with. "Maybe Blair's wrong."

"Well, if you do start hearing things, please go and see Magnus straight away."

"Clary, you've got to stop feeling guilty about this. You saved my life. We'll deal with whatever comes. It'll be fine," Simon tried to reassure her.

Clary sighed heavily and said, "We should go. They'll be waiting for us."

* * *

Back at Magnus' house, weapons were handed out and runes were etched on skin. Isabelle hesitantly asked Blair if she'd like a healing rune, but Blair declined. Everyone knew something was wrong with Blair. But so much had happened last night no one knew if it was because of the Seelie Court, Jack, or Blair's desperate desire to stop the Shadowhunter's from fighting. There had been some change in her, and it made all of them uneasy, especially Magnus. Though, no one questioned her.

When everyone was ready and Magnus had set up his automatic message, they all caught the subway together, staying close and invisible. They were lucky, and had caught the train at a time where there were very few people. From the station, they had to walk for ten minutes or so through back streets and alleys to get to the right address. The apartment building was large, and situated in a deserted area near factories and warehouses. There was nothing around, and Blair wouldn't have been surprised that no one would've noticed much demon activity. It was just an empty block in one corner of the city. Blair didn't recognise this as the place she'd last seen as a demon hotspot, but as soon as she took a breath the scent of smoke and water stuffed its way down her throat; demons. She knew she'd been right; Atraco was well informed about the Downworld and had been preparing for the Shadowhunters.

The whole place was red brick, maybe ten stories high, with long, thin windows spaced evenly on each floor. There were graffiti tags around the bottom, but they trailed away when the building got too high. The Shadowhunters, Magnus, Simon and Blair were standing on the asphalt that surrounded the building. There was a chain link fence that surrounded the whole block and declared the building property of some bank that had claimed it. It wasn't hard to scale the fence, even with weapons, carefully missing the points at the top. There were three steps that led to a dark brown door which Blair assumed would open into the foyer.

"What now?" Simon asked, looking at the others.

"Go inside?" Jace suggested.

"No need," Blair said in a hushed whisper. "He's coming out to greet us."

Then the front door opened to reveal Atraco standing in the doorframe, a sword in his belt, a few daggers tucked away and a gun in a holster.

Though it wasn't the weapons that rendered the Shadowhunter's speechless.

Standing before them was a child.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this chapter dragged a little, but I needed a lead in. Next chapter you'll get some action. Thanks everyone for all the reviews on the last chapter. Keep them coming, and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can (homework is killing me lol). And don't forget (I'll keep reminding you) about the poll on my profile. **

**Thanks, everyone. **

**Jess**


	17. Firewall

**Chapter 16 – Firewall**

Atraco, was a child. Well, in a sense. He was no more than twelve or thirteen, which presented a problem for the Shadowhunters. It was easier to point weapons at a destructive adult, but a lot harder when faced with a child.

Blair immediately wondered what this boy could've seen in his short span of life to compel him to do something so reckless and dangerous.

"Hello, Shadowhunters," he said in a loud confident voice. From the moment he spoke, Blair could hear that defensive, harsh, tough kid tone. That tone of someone who was defensive just to give some sort of purpose to their lives – to ignore everything that had made their lives meaningless. That tone of someone who needed to intimidate everyone, or otherwise, be reduced to nothing. Blair knew exactly what sort of things did that to a person.

Atraco – the name didn't suit at all – wasn't much taller than Clary, and his hair was a soft curly blond, so light it could've been white. He had one of those faces that you just knew would look boyish forever, and beautiful hazel eyes that flickered green and gold in the afternoon light. But the most noticeable thing about the boy's face was his scars. Blair knew exactly what it was like to receive scars like that – she harboured a few herself. On the boy's left cheekbone, just below his eye, was a red line of scar tissue someone only obtained from repeatedly opening the same wound and never letting it fully heal. There was a similar scar on his right eye, just below his eyebrow.

Blair had heard stories of Sighted humans and the injuries they received. She knew of a boy in New York who'd had an eye gouged out, and she'd met, while in the streets of Melbourne, a woman in her twenties whose face had been clawed to such a state that she was unrecognisable to even her family.

Blair was entirely too familiar with what the boy's scars signified; torture. The scars were proof that someone had owned him.

"Finally. Took you long enough to find me," Atraco said, smiling, with just a hint of lunacy. "And you brought the faery too." He said it with a condescending mocking, as though they'd been conned stupidly into doing exactly what he wanted. His young eyes scanned the group. He took in Magnus with a look of approval, and Simon with a look of pleased surprise. "A daylighter. I've only met one daylighter before."

Blair had a sinking feeling that he may have been referring to Jack, but pushed the thought aside for the moment. The boy was doing a good job at hiding his accent, but Blair could easily tell that he wasn't American at all. It almost scared Blair in the similarities between them. He was from England, and his real name was Eoin, pronounced like Owen. Eoin was smart, but Blair could taste his caged feeling rusting in her mouth. Eoin had been locked up, and never wanted to be there again.

"What are you going to do now, Eoin?" Blair asked him calmly, taking a step forward.

Eoin stared at her and said, "Don't call me that." He sounded like he was scolding her for being ignorant.

"What are you going to do now?" Blair repeated. She eyed his weapons, smelling the metal carefully. The daggers were made of silver, but in the blade various religious symbols had been intricately carved; designed for killing both vampires and werewolves, should the occasion arise. The sword was steel, tipped with silver, and again had many religious symbols carved into the blade. For her, the steel blade would hurt, but unless Eoin got her in a moment of weakness it wouldn't be fatal. It was the gun she'd have to worry about. The bullets weren't pure iron, but made mostly of steel. If she were shot with one of those, the bullet would literally burn her from the inside out.

"I know you," Eoin said to Blair, with a tip of his head. "I know the Seelie Court. And I know what the Queen wants." He smirked as he said it, using a factual, I-know-something-you-don't tone.

"Yes," Blair nodded. "I'm well aware of what the Queen wants."

Eoin stepped back. "You do?" He gave Blair a strange look, as if confused. "Then why would you come here?"

"I needed to warn you. The Queen will just kill you when she doesn't get what she wants."

"Then I'll get her what she wants." He said the words slowly and deliberately, enunciating each syllable.

"I think you've underestimated me," Blair said.

And it suddenly clicked in all of the Shadowhunter's minds. The Queen wanted Blair.

Eoin reached for his gun and withdrew it, pointing it at the ground. Blair put her hand behind her, warning the Shadowhunters not to move or draw any weapons. Startling this unstable kid would do nothing but get someone hurt. "I could kill you in one shot." It was a-matter-of-fact, harsh and callous, but he didn't sound hysterical. Calm, even.

"You don't want to kill me," Blair said. "The Queen will only punish you."

"So I'll kill her too." Anger broke through Eoin's voice.

Eoin's hatred coated Blair's tongue, and she knew her presence wasn't helping. The fey had done something to Eoin that had ruined his mind, and he wasn't about to recover from it. She needed to calm him down before he pointed the gun at her. "I've wanted to kill her too, Eoin. In fact, I tried to kill her son once," Blair told him. She laughed softly, as if trying to relax the mood. "It was a disaster. I failed miserably, of course, and I was hung from the roof by my hair for three days." It was almost a lie, but not quite. Yes, she'd been hung by her hair, but Etihad had also put a large iron ball in her mouth. It had burnt her mouth so badly she hadn't been able to eat for almost two weeks. And immortality doesn't let starvation kill. Honestly, she'd been lucky. If anyone else had tried to kill the Seelie Prince, they'd have been dead in seconds.

Eoin looked momentarily alarmed. "Why would you try to kill the Queen's son? You're a faery. You used to belong to the Seelie Court."

Blair locked eyes with Eoin and ran her fingers over her neck, where the iron scar constantly reminded her of Etihad's blade at her throat. "And I'm sure you belonged to someone once too."

Eoin's hand clenched his gun with frightening force, and through his teeth he just said, "Get inside." Slowly, he raised the gun so it was pointing at Blair's chest. "I've got iron bullets. Everyone get inside or your fey friend dies."

For a panicked moment, no one moved. "Do what he says," Blair said calmly. "Walk around us to the front door. Don't hurt him."

"Blair…" Magnus questioned.

"Just do it."

Jace was the first to move, followed by Clary, Alec, Magnus, Isabelle, and finally Simon. Simon watched the boy as the child stared intently at Blair, hatred in his eyes. Just as Simon passed Blair, he heard in a voice so low it was obviously only meant for him to hear, "The daggers and sword are etched with religious symbols. If you have a choice, you'd fair better with the gun." Simon didn't respond, and kept his face neutral.

When everyone was inside, including Blair, with Eoin behind her, the gun digging into her lower back, Eoin had become decidedly happier. No natural light filtered through the blacked out windows, making it obvious Eoin had been dealing with demons. The room was quite large, with a high ceiling, and narrow stairwell at the far wall. Corridors led off to the left and the right, with numbered doors placed at even intervals.

"Are you going to kill us all now? Without a fight?" Blair asked, very aware of the bullet that was a click away from being launched into her body. No matter how fast she was, she wouldn't be able to dodge it.

"No," Eoin said from behind her, with a scoff, "I'm not stupid. You're Shadowhunters. I'd end up dead." Blair thought she could hear some jealousy.

"Well, at least you're not completely insane," Isabelle said, either trying to provoke him, or just releasing her frustration at feeling helpless.

"Do you want me to kill her?!" Eoin shouted, digging the gun into Blair's back with more force. Again, no hysteria, just a brutal warning. No one answered; they just stood stiff in anticipation.

Blair felt like she was standing in a firing line. The Shadowhunters, Magnus and Simon were facing her in a menacing row, but didn't have any weapons out. Blair saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and desperately wanted to turn her head to get a better look.

Jace watched Blair; she was wearing an expression that bordered on mild interest and total boredom. She looked as though she were staring out of a car window, watching her surroundings. If Jace hadn't noticed the way Blair was standing lightly on the balls of her feet, her fingertips very close to the seraph blades at her waist, he'd have thought she were completely uninterested with what was happening around her. Blair's quarterstaff was also hanging from her waist, and swung slightly each time she moved. She wasn't wearing the same black Shadowhunter gear the others were, but she was wearing her black jeans and leather jacket that, from a distance, made her fit in with the Shadowhunters. Jace couldn't quite work it out, but something seemed…wrong. Blair just looked so… human.

"How did you know Blair was a faery?" Jace asked Eoin suddenly.

"Because I have the Sight," Eoin said condescendingly. "I can see she's a faery."

"Eoin doesn't see glamours at all, no matter how strong," Blair filled in. "He will always see what's underneath." It was for this reason Sighted humans were always targeted. And why they were always so messed up.

There was another flicker of movement to Blair's right, and she had to forcibly stop herself from reacting. She knew Eoin was waiting for something – his anticipation touched her lips like a cool breeze – and it made her anxious.

"Stop talking," Eoin ordered. "Are there any more of you coming?"

"No," Jace said immediately.

Eoin shook his head. "You can lie. Fey can't." He nudged Blair in the back and repeated the question, "Are there any more Shadowhunters coming?" He asked her forcefully, almost demanding.

"No," Blair said easily. Eoin hadn't learned the fine art of asking _very_ specific questions to fey. Blair hadn't lied – at this moment, no other Shadowhunters were coming. If Eoin had asked _will _there be any other Shadowhunters coming, then she'd have had to say yes.

"Are there any Downworlders coming?" Again, his question was almost a dare, that defensive nature causing everything he said to sound like a challenge.

"No," Blair said again.

"You're alone? No one else is following?" This was nothing but cynicism.

"Not that we know of."

Eoin's suspicion rolled over Blair's tongue. "You're telling me that you came here alone, without any kind of back up? No one to help you if you got into trouble? No one to come to your rescue if you don't come back?" Again, his cynicism was almost painful.

And this is where Blair's almost-lying fell short. This wasn't a question she could dodge. "No."

"No, you don't have back up, or no, you do?" He said it quickly, abrasively, seeming to be frustrated.

"We do. If we're not home but nightfall there will be others coming."

"Why didn't they come with you in the first place?" He was trying to intimidate her, his voice the voice of a bully.

Blair hesitated, and Eoin nudged her. "Because we didn't tell them we were coming out here."

Eoin laughed scornfully. "Oh, well, I guess I have until nightfall to kill you."

"What makes you think you can kill all of us?" Jace asked.

Eoin smiled and said, "This." With that he used his right hand – his left still held the gun – and spun a metal throwing star to his right, then to his left. The stars struck… nothing. They stopped in midair between the entrance to the corridors that veered off left and right. It was as if they'd lodged themselves in some kind of invisible wall. _Oh god,_ Blair thought in her moment of realisation.

"Magnus, firewall!" she shouted as the throwing stars began to spark. It took a moment, but then Magnus realised the magic that was being used and instantaneously he threw his arms out, creating a blue translucent bubble around the Shadowhunters, Simon and himself. Ignoring the gun at her back, Blair dived to the side, putting up a similar black and white bubble of magic around herself, just as the corridors blew open and the heat wave rolled through the building scorching the walls and stairs. The windows must have been magically reinforced, because the glass didn't even crack.

Blair was immediately furious with herself; why hadn't she seen it? Magnus hadn't either, and she knew it was hardly something she could be blamed for. Firewalls were basically undetectable unless you were really looking, and could be set up by the most amateur of warlocks. Designed originally like a mundane electric fence, they would spark when something came in contact with them, and were used to keep things either in or out of specific places. But during the Metal Wars in the 1300's warlocks had upgraded the firewalls so they exploded when in contact with the enemy, but didn't even spark when touched by an ally.

Blair had time to glance at Eoin, who was standing amongst the flames and shrapnel laughing, before movement blurred around her. The warlock who had set up the walls must've given Eoin a charm to protect him from the explosion. Demons of every size and shape began to stream from the corridors, suddenly freed from their exploding prison.

Magnus and Blair dropped their protective bubbles at the same time and threw themselves in front of the Shadowhunters, giving them time to arm themselves before a cascade of demons reached them. Simon was already flinging arrows at demons with blinding speed and accuracy, and Jace had a sword out, slashing at a _daevas_ demon. Its disturbingly beautifully cold, almost human, almost alien looks were usually used to lure humans in, but now its features were contorted into a look of rage and wrath that was pure ugliness. Isabelle flicked her whip at a demon that was about to jump Clary, then threw a seraph blade at another ten or so feet away from her. It squealed and disappeared in a flash of dark light. Alec pulled out his guisarme and darted forward to fight beside Magnus.

Within minutes ichor had coated the floor in a thick layer, making everything slippery and masking the taste of nearly all the emotions in the room. Even so, Blair was keeping a sharp eye on Eoin. He was standing back from the fight, watching, but slowly, as the Shadowhunters began to dispatch his onslaught of demons, he was becoming increasingly frustrated and angry. Blair stayed close to Eoin, just to make sure she was in range if he decided to do something reckless.

Blair had just slashed an _asuras_ – a huge, muscled demon with tusks, armoured skin and thick spikes that covered its whole body – across the throat when she nearly missed Eoin's sharp movement behind her. He'd drawn a dagger from his waist, and with practiced precision, thrown it towards Simon. Blair, merely acting on reflex, pulled her quarterstaff from her waist, extending it out at the same time, and swiftly spun around, knocking the blade to the ground with the end of her staff.

Eoin looked at her, enraged, as Blair held her staff protectively in front of her. Even if he drew his gun, she was at a long enough distance away from him to either deflect the bullet, or dodge it. Eoin evidently realised this too, because instead of drawing his gun and pointing it at Blair, he drew his gun and pointed at the nearest Shadowhunter. Unfortunately, this was Alec, who was flicking his guisarme at a spider demon, while artfully dodging its spraying venom.

"Don't do it," Blair shouted at Eoin over the noise of the fight. "You take a life, and you can't get that back."

Eoin smiled maliciously and as he cocked the gun, just said, "I don't trust any faery with a conscience."

A loud shot went off, and within an instant four things happened:

Magnus and Isabelle both called out Alec's name in total fear.

Clary had knocked Jace to the ground before he lunged at the gun-wielding Eoin and got a bullet in the chest.

Simon had shot an arrow straight into Eoin's chest.

And… Alec fell to the ground.

* * *

**A/N: I apologise for the cliffhanger, but we all like a little suspense. School is going crazy at the moment, so I need the encouragement (ie. reviews) to get the next chapter up. Hope you liked Atraco and the demons. Action scenes are hard to write, so hopefully this one came across as intended. **

**Thanks for all the support and reviews. Keep the reviews coming, and I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can. And don't forget about the poll on my profile. **

**Jess **


	18. Poison and Iron

**A/N: For anyone who doesn't already know, there has been some big news with regards to the MI series. Anyone very into Simon, movies, and/or graphic novels REALLY should give this a read.  
**

**Go to Cassandra Clare's live journal blog if you've not heard. Here's the link: **http: // cassandraclare . livejournal . com/33056 . html

**Just remove the spaces when putting in the URL. **

**

* * *

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**Chapter 17 – Poison and Iron**

There was collective silence, until people began to piece together what had happened. Alec had been knocked to the ground, not by a bullet, but by Blair. She'd dashed forward, using the slippery ichor to speed her movements and knocked him out of the path of the bullet. They were both on the floor, tangled up in each other, covered in ichor, but fine.

Simon looked down at his hands and dropped the bow he was holding. He fell to his knees and gasped in air he didn't need. A demon lunged at him, and Isabelle threw out her whip to protect him. "I didn't mean to," Simon muttered. "I didn't think… It was a reflex…" His voice trailed away, buried under the sounds of the battle.

Eoin was on the ground, just looking at the arrow protruding from his rib cage. His breathing was shallow and whistled, a sign that his lung was probably punctured. Blair left Alec – who was already on his feet, and defending himself – and crawled toward the little boy.

"Don't touch the arrow," she advised him. "Let me help you."

There was nothing but fear in Eoin's eyes as he nodded weakly. Blair put her hands on the boy's chest, and used her magic to get a feel for the injury. All fey have healing powers, but this isn't widely known, simply because faeries don't like to give away their secrets – and most of the time they can't be bothered to help others. The arrow, shot within such a close range and at an extremely high velocity, had passed straight though Eoin's chest to his back. It had nicked a rib, but not broken it, which was always good. "Can you roll onto your side for me?" Blair asked, while already moving him. He winced in pain and whimpered. It was actually better that the arrow had cleared the other side of his body; it made a cleaner wound and Blair would be able to take the arrow out easily. Like most modern arrows, this one was made primarily of wood with a brass tip, tapered at the end. On the other end were feathers, designed to make the arrow fly straight. With her right hand steady, Blair held the feathered end, and slowly removed the arrow, keeping her left hand on Eoin's chest, healing him as the arrow came out. Blair threw the arrow away, and inspected the injury with her magic. The immediate injury was healed, but Blair could feel the scarring under Eoin's skin; something she wasn't able to fix.

Eoin looked up at her in wonder, truly looking like the child he was. "Why?" he asked.

Blair smiled at him. "Because I got a second chance."

"I'm sorry," Eoin said suddenly, as tears welled up in his eyes. "I didn't mean to shoot yo–"

"Forget about it," Blair said. "I'm…" The lie didn't work. "I'll be…" Again. Blair knew this wasn't good. She opted for something less specific. "It's okay."

"But your leg. I can see through the glamour. You're ble–"

"Just ignore it. Now, we need to get you out of here. When I tell you to run, run outside and wait for the Shadowhunters to come. They'll be adults. Tell them that we need help. Tell them exactly what demons you've summoned, but don't tell them you're the one who summoned them. I'll keep you safe until you get to the door. Okay?" Even though, half an hour or so ago the boy had been threatening to kill her, Blair had complete faith in him. He was terrified, and her more mature confidence had soothed him. He'd do what she asked without hesitation.

He reminded Blair too much of herself to let him die.

Eoin nodded, his face trying to hold back fearful tears. He sniffled and nodded again. "Yes."

"Okay… run!" Blair said. Eoin bolted towards the door. No demons lunged at him, but Blair made sure none of the Shadowhunters did either. It was just becoming dark, so Magnus's message must've been on its way to the Institute. There were just too many demons for everyone to get out alive. Magnus was protecting just about everyone from stray demon poison, but he looked exhausted. Alec was fighting something with yellow eyes, no mouth and that oozed green sludge. It singed the floor like acid. Isabelle's movements were sloppy and drowsy, and Blair could see the wound on her forearm where demon poison had gotten into her blood stream. It wasn't fatal, but it made her fighting weaker than usual – and that could be fatal. Simon had gotten his bearings, and was again shooting arrows at various demons. Jace was fighting savagely with his sword, glancing back to Clary again and again, protecting her when necessary.

Then, before Blair was able to even call out, a scorpion demon leapt over Jace in a comical human gesture and lunged at Clary. Blair shot out a quick burst of her magic, but she was weak, and missed the demon, instead shattering a window. The glass shards rained down on the scorpion's hard exo-skeleton and had no effect. The stinger curled around the demon's back and plunged into Clary's side. She doubled over immediately, not dead, but in pain. The demon tried to get in another hit, but Jace ran forward and practically severed the scorpion's tail from its back with his sword. It squealed something so high pitched and feral all the demons halted.

It was in that brief moment of clarity when Blair had an idea. Clary wasn't going to survive long with that demon venom in her system, and it was clear the demons weren't about to relent. Alec was the closest Shadowhunter and Blair darted a few steps and grabbed his stele from his belt. Alec didn't notice, still pre-occupied with killing his acidic demon. As quickly as she could, Blair carved a small rune on the inside of her left palm. Had she had time to admire it, she would've said it looked like an exploding flower. It wasn't a commonly used rune, but it was in the Grey Book. Usually it was used to release magic charms on objects, like a hex on a piece of jewellery or charm that made an inanimate object move. Then, with all the strength she had in her, Blair threw Alec's stele towards the roof, glad that the ceiling was higher than in most apartment buildings. From the rune now marked on her palm, she let magic flow and black and white sparks were thrown from Blair's hand, hitting the stele in midair. It exploded with such force that everyone was thrown to the ground. Then, from the sky, tiny black clouds of smoke began to fall. Only, the clouds of smoke weren't just clouds, they were shaped as runes. Runes were falling like snowflakes. They landed on the Shadowhunters, Magnus, Simon and Blair with no effect, but as they landed on the demons, they began to writhe and shriek in pain. The runes hit the demons and burned through their skin, or exo-skeleton, leaving smoking, melting holes.

"Everyone get out of here!" Blair shouted, following her own advice and limping towards the door. She was out first, taking in breaths of fresh night air to get the taste of demon and iron out of her mouth. Alec and Magnus followed, then Simon supporting Isabelle. Finally, Jace came out carrying a limp Clary in his arms. He placed her on the pavement and took out his stele, trying to mark her with a healing rune.

"Jace," Alec said, touching his shoulder. "We need to get her back to the Institute. It's demon poison."

"Magnus," Jace looked up desperately. "You can heal her."

Magnus pursed his lips and said, "I'm practically depleted. I won't be able to fix her here, and if I only partially heal her it can make it worse. The venom has slowed her heart, which means it's not being pumped around her body very fast. If I heal her a little, her heart could speed up and kill her faster. Alec's right, we need to get back to the Institute."

Jace turned to Blair. "You can heal her. I saw what you did to Eoin. You can heal her."

Blair looked at her slightly silver hands, and could see them sweating, trying to bring her fever down. Her glamour was also beginning to fade. Blair knew this wasn't good. "Jace… I'm sorry, I can't right now."

Jace was about to protest, but Eoin ran to them saying, "They're here. The other Shadowhunters." It was completely dark now, and the sounds of the demons dying inside were startlingly loud against the street noise.

Maryse and Robert were the first ones to the scene. The Inquisitor followed closely, just as Jocelyn and Luke ran into view. Jocelyn found Clary immediately, and ran to her daughter. Luke scooped Clary off the pavement without a word and was already moving towards his truck. "Magnus, you'd better come with me," he called back. Magnus nodded curtly to the group and followed Luke. Jace and Jocelyn were at his side.

Maryse was checking over her children as Robert asked, "The demons? Are they dead?"

"Almost," Blair answered. "They will be soon."

"You children need to get back to the Institute," the Inquisitor said.

There was silence and no one moved. Maryse gave her children a look and said, "Get home now. At least that way you can say you've followed _one_ of my instructions today."

* * *

Maryse, Robert and the Inquisitor sent Alec, Isabelle, Simon, Blair and Eoin to the Institute, while they cleaned up the last few demons and made sure nothing else could harm civilians.

Blair spent the whole train ride back chewing on her cheek to distract herself. She could feel her fever rising quickly and her leg was burning. She'd hidden the wound under a glamour – Eoin had seen through it – when they were at the apartment building, and everyone assumed that all the blood was just Eoin's. Blair had been fast, but not fast enough. When she'd knocked Alec to the ground Eoin's bullet had lodged itself in her upper thigh, just millimetres from piercing the main artery. If the iron had hit that, she would've been dead in seconds. The pain was blinding. She could feel the iron seeping into her blood. If she didn't get the bullet out soon, it was going to kill her.

In the darkness, before they'd gotten on the train, she had ripped off a piece of her shirt and tied it unceremoniously around the wound on her leg. It hadn't stopped the bleeding, but it stopped it from dripping to the ground where the Shadowhunters would notice. Blair, not strong enough to produce another full glamour – her skin was already looking silver – just created the illusion that her own blood was that of demon ichor. No one questioned her.

The iron of the train was beginning to make her feel nauseous unlike it ever had before. Everyone was covered in blood and ichor; so really, Blair didn't look out of place. Isabelle and Alec had been angry seeing Eoin alive, but Simon was nothing but glad. Blair knew he wasn't the type that was able to kill somebody. She supposed it was another reason she had saved Eoin. Simon wouldn't have been able to deal with the guilt of killing a child, even one who was slightly… misguided; Blair didn't believe he was evil. Eoin was quiet, sitting between Alec and Simon. Blair had no idea what the Clave was going to do with him. Obviously he was dangerous and unstable, but he was just a kid. He kept looking at Blair, then to her leg, frowning. He was about to say something, but Blair quickly cut him off, instead asking how long it would take for Magnus to get his magic back. She gave a slight shake of her head to Eoin as Alec was answering, and Eoin nodded back in understanding.

Walking to the Institute from the subway was a challenge for Blair, and she lagged behind. Now her glamour flickered as her magic wavered, the iron poisoning her. No one called out to her; they were all worried about Clary. Why would they call out to Blair, anyway? They all thought she was fine.

Blair stumbled as her glamour fell away. It didn't really matter. It was dark and everyone was worried about Clary. Her dark blood had soaked the rag completely as she lurched through the doors of the Institute.

Blair watched the group of Shadowhunters run to the infirmary, where Clary would already be with her mother, Luke, Jace and Magnus. Blair waited until everyone was out of sight, and then staggered to her room. She needed to find her golden blade. A golden blade, of course, was useless as a weapon – pure gold was extremely soft – but infused with diamond, it served as a medical tool for the fey. If Blair wanted to get this bullet out before it poisoned her, she needed that blade. A steel blade would only harm her further.

In her room she stripped off her jacket and t-shirt, releasing her wings – the thin membranous capillaries soaking her wings with iron from the bullet seeping into her blood – and fumbled around in her chest of drawers, bleeding over the floor.

It wasn't until Jace was in the room that Blair felt his fury. She knew she was injured when her senses were so impaired and she wasn't completely aware of her surroundings.

When he burst through the door, Blair ceased all movement, putting up a weak glamour and clinging to the drawer she'd been searching through for support. She was facing the wall, Jace a few steps behind her.

"Clary is dying, and you run away to your room?" Jace shouted. "You have the power to easily heal her, and you run? I know you hate her, but I love her. I love her. And she's dying. Are you really so selfish? Magnus needs help."

Blair's vision was swimming. For a moment, she was fuming. She'd taken a bullet for Alec. She didn't owe any of them anything. They'd ruined her life. And now, she was dying for them. The clarity of death somehow sharpened her mind. She could hardly speak; her jaw was clenched tight from the pain. She was scared that if she opened her mouth she would scream out in agony.

Blair opened the second drawer down, and was rewarded. She clutched the golden blade in her left hand, struggled to put up a glamour, then turned to Jace.

"I'll need your help. I can't walk," she said.

Jace's face suddenly changed. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll…" Blair tried to say she'd heal, but she knew it was a lie. She tried to tell Jace that she'd be okay, but again, that was a lie and it wouldn't force its way out of her mouth. So she went for something that wasn't explicitly referring to her. "It'll be okay. I just can't walk for now. I need some help. I… my wings… I can't fly either. Please." Blair could feel her wings sagging from her back. The iron was literally burning them away.

Jace nodded and walked to her, putting an arm under her shoulders and taking her weight. Slowly, Blair relying heavily on Jace for support, they made their way to the infirmary, her glamour flickering as she struggled to keep it up. Blair's vision became tunnelled and she could only see fuzzy shapes around her. Emotions swirled in her mouth.

She collapsed into a chair beside Clary's bed, Jace holding her upright.

"Give me her hand," Blair said. A cold hand fell into her palms. Blair combined her magic with Magnus', but even with the joint effort, her glamour fell away as the last of her magic disappeared into Clary. Blair could feel the only thing keeping her alive drain away as the iron flooded her body. It was only with Magnus' help that Blair was able to even use her magic. Together, they sucked the demon poison out of Clary's blood and slowly knitted up her wounds. When Blair could feel Clary's brain begin to hum, she pulled away. Blair had no idea how long it had taken, her sense of time and place were shooting past her mind like hummingbirds.

Blair began to hallucinate, and nothing seemed real anymore. She saw Etihad with iron hands, and Jack holding his pulsing, bleeding heart out to her. She saw her sisters walking away from her hand in hand. Her vision skittered through these images, before fading to black and all she could hear were voices.

"Is she alright?"

"Oh, my god, look at her leg?"

"What the hell happened?"

Blair took the blade out of her pocket. "Use this. Get the iron out. It's poisoning me."

And then, everything disappeared in static noise.

* * *

The golden knife fell to the floor as Blair's body buckled and dropped. Jace scooped her up and laying her on the nearest bed. Now that her glamour was gone, he could see the bleeding, pulsing wound in her thigh.

"How the hell did this happen?" Jace shouted again.

"It was me," Alec sounded guilty. "She must've taken a bullet. For me."

Without much thought Jace grabbed the golden blade and struck it into her wound. He began to slowly work his way around the damaged flesh – it looked at is it had been melted away – to pry the bullet out. It took a few minutes, but eventually the bullet came out, disintegrating Blair's skin. Her wings looked as if they were blistering away before his eyes.

"Magnus, she needs help."

* * *

"That's as far as I go," Magnus said, straightening up. "I'm just too weak now. I can wait and try again, but it's simply whether her vampire immune system can pull her through. You could try to hire another warlock, but I doubt there's much more anyone can do for her. "

"Is she going to die?" Clary, weak but alive, inquired from a nearby bed.

Magnus didn't look up. "In all likelihood, yes. I doubt she'll live through the night. Even the oldest fey don't survive iron wounds like this. The metal has been in her blood for too long; I'm surprised she survived the train ride back."

Everyone was silent.

"I need to tell Jack," Jace said. He felt like there was tar in his lungs and a cloud in his head. He stood, stumbling. Clary looked alarmed.

"Who?" Jocelyn asked.

"Her… vampire friend. The one she's bound to. He needs to know. I'll… I'll tell him. I'll go."

Maryse looked concerned. "Be careful."

Clary touched Jace's arm from her bed and questioned, "Jace?"

"No!" Jace forcefully stated and firmly but gently moved Clary's arm away. "I need to get out. And Jack needs to know. If she's going to die, he deserves to know."

"Jace," Isabelle said softly.

"No." He was calmer, but he wasn't relenting. "I have to go."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter may have been a little confusing at first, sorry about that. Hope everyone enjoyed and doesn't reprimand Blair too much. Reviews and Poll, please. Trying to get to 150 reviews - that's only 3 more, come on guys.  
**

**Jess**


	19. Dextra's Story

**Chapter 18 – Dextra's Story**

The moment Jack opened the door on Jace, he said three words. They were direct, and they were true. "You killed her."

Jace staggered back. "She's not dead yet."

"I want to see her."

"What?"

"I want to see her. One more time. Please."

"But you can't come into the Institute."

Jack paused. "I have to try. Anyway, I have the blood of an angel. Surely I could try."

"Simon has my blood. Even he can't go into the Institute."

"But Simon only drank your blood. I actually have Blair's blood in me. Please, I just have to try."

Jace slowly nodded. "I suppose we can try."

* * *

They caught the subway to the Institute, and for the first few minutes, no one said anything. Then, Jack just began speaking.

"Every boy Blair ever met fell in love with her," he told Jace. "It wasn't always romantic, but they all loved her; as a friend or a substitute sister or a pretend daughter. Girls hated her. But boys always just… wanted to be around her; to talk to her, to protect her." Jack looked Jace in the eye. "I'm sure you already know, but even Magnus loved her. Of course, not like that. But thinks of her like the reckless little sister he never had; always looks out for her. Freaky Pete treats her like the daughter he lost. Blair is just one of those girls boys fall in love with and don't even realise it. In fact, she never realised it. She was the girl with all the boys who were only ever friends, but never boyfriends."

"Did you love her?"

Jack laughed. It was bitter and hard. "I'd never loved anyone in my vampire life. Didn't even have a family to love. I'm a prick through and through. No sympathy, no empathy, no decency. But I fell in love with her in a second."

Jace was silent.

"So," Jack sighed, "how'd you mange to kill the almost unkillable girl?"

"Why are you so calm about this?"

"Because, a year or so ago, when we first saw you guys at Pandemonium – the blue haired demon and Isabelle in her white gown – she basically foretold her death. She told me that you would come and take her away, and that she wouldn't be coming back. She told me that she'd die because of you. Obviously, I've had time to warm up to the idea."

"Clary was dying," Jace tried to rationalise. "Demon poison. Blair was hurt, shot, but, I ignored it. I guilted her into saving Clary. It's my fault."

Jack rolled his eyes. "You can't guilt Blair into anything. She does things like this because she wants to save the world. When she was a mundane, she wanted to become a doctor. Nothing's changed. She will still take a bullet for someone she hates. It's who she is."

"I never knew." Jace stared at his hands.

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know." Jack sighed. "So, you didn't look out for her like I asked you to. I told you about her pain thing."

"Yeah, well, it slipped my mind."

"Of course it did," Jack said, resentment slipping into his tone.

"She just… she acted so self-centred. As if the world owed her something," Jace said.

"The world _did_!" Jack suddenly burst out. "All you Shadowhunters saw of her was the power. You saw her as a tool. Something to possess and use. It's how she's been treated ever since she got into the Downworld. The world owes her more than it will ever owe you." Jack paused, then leaned in towards Jace. "Let me tell you her story. From the beginning. It started with her parents. I'm sure you know that bit. Fey killed them. Then abducted her two little sisters.

"Blair searched the streets for two months before the Seelie Court contacted her. They told her to come to New York. She did, in a second. The Seelie queen then offered Blair a deal. Blair's sisters would be ensured safety, but Blair would have to serve the court. Blair had seen fey courts, and she knew very well what she was getting herself into. And yet, still, she said yes. That was Blair. She would do anything for her sisters.

"The Fey were of course true to their word and her sisters were freed, and Blair was bound to the Seelie Court. Her first act as a servant to the Seelie Queen was to be married to her son, Etihad. Now, Blair has always been sketchy on the details about her time in the court simply because it has haunted her. But from what I could gather, her first night with Etihad involved him raping her repeatedly throughout the night.

"I'm not sure just how much of fey courts you've seen, but fey magic is powerful, and to be under that magic can be the most awful thing in the world. Basically, someone can lose all sense of control. You can be danced around in your own body, with complete comprehension of what's happening to you, but have no way to stop it. Imagine being paralysed, then completely violated. This is what Blair has told me being bound to a faery is like.

"From that night onwards, during the day Etihad let Blair be used as a sexual slave to the fey in court. Men and women. Faeries tend not to be too picky. Then, during the night, Etihad had her under his control. For six months this continued to happen. Six months. That's why she's called a Downworlder slut. She's notorious as Etihad's human-turned-fey slave. People call her names. They call her awful things. But they don't understand anything. They don't know anything."

Jace remembered back to the demon who'd called Blair the 'fey slave' and Lenka had said she was a 'Downworlder slut'. He figured it was the reason Magnus had a strange protective persona for her.

"And, this is where I come in. Like I said before, I'm a prick, and a heartless prick at that. There isn't much that will make me do something simply because it's the right thing to do. There isn't much that will compel me to do something because I simply have to out of the goodness of my heart. But, in that court, I just had to get her out.

"When I first saw her, she didn't look like she did today. She was without her human glamour, and wore almost nothing, completely exposed. I assume it was for easy access. Jace, she was only fifteen. Just a child. She shook, constantly. Her hands trembled. Her mouth quivered. That was out of fear. She was so thin because she couldn't eat. She walked around in a haze of fey magic, and sleep deprivation. She never spoke because she was too tired and usually incoherent. Her eyes were so blank it was as if she had tuned out the world to stop feeling any emotion." Jack's hands were curled up into fists. "The fey could have trained her as one of the most powerful faeries on earth. But they withered her away like the humans consume fossil fuels. But now I think about it, I'm sure that was the Seelie Queen's purpose. She didn't want a faerie that could be stronger than her, so she destroyed her. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, after all."

Jace was frozen. Frozen listening to this story of… complete abject horror. This was more than he could imagine.

"So, I was there, in the Seelie Court, because I deal to most of the underworld. It was the first time I'd ever seen Blair. Etihad had cleared an area and was dancing with her. She could hardly move because she was so weak and shaking so hard. Eithad was practically dragging her around the floor.

"I'm sure Blair told you her scars were from demons or vampires or other Downworlders. She has taken telling the truth down to an art. She, no doubt, would've pointed at the scars and said 'demon' or 'vampire', right? Not lying. Random words aren't lies."

Jace remembered the conversation he'd had with Blair on the train. Then nodded.

////

_Blair rolled her eyes. She pointed to the scar on her neck, "A spoke of a wrought iron gate. Almost killed me. Vampire." She pulled down the shoulder of her leather jacket to show what looked like a burn mark on her upper arm. "Shot. Warlock. Just missed me." She lifted her shirt showing a star scar about the diameter of a small fruit. "Stabbed. Werewolf." She dropped her shirt, and then grinned at Jace. "I'd show the scar on my leg, but I might embarrass you. And your girlfriend would like me even less." _

"_I'm fine," Jace said dryly. He'd noticed how she'd never actually strung her words together to say, "This scar was from a warlock." This led Jace to believe she was dodging the question. Perhaps lying. There had to be some art in escaping questions with the almost truth, and having your whole life to learn would make you devious. Jace assumed it as why fey were so dangerous. Their way with words was so carefully weaved into ambiguity, they could mean anything._

////

Jack ran a hand through his hair and continued the story. "But they were all iron scars from Etihad. He used iron metal to torture her. That's why she can't glamour over them. He burnt her over and over again with iron."

Suddenly, a thought struck Jace. Those scars he'd seen on Eoin, they looked just like Blair's scars. He had been tortured too.

"Anyway, he had an iron blade at her neck as they were dancing. Then, she tripped over her feet, and Etihad just snapped. He beat her. He beat her to the floor yelling at her, scarring her with the iron." Jack closed his eyes, as if remembering. "The image I will always remember, as long as I live, is her, curled up in a ball before Etihad's feet. She was bleeding, her wings almost torn from her back, just shaking, hugging her knees to her chest." Jack exhaled loudly and opened his eyes. "Then, he just began raping her right there. The fey of the court acted as if it were a normal occurrence. It is the most horrible thing I've ever witnessed. I've been around for almost 120 years, and I have seen horrible things. I've seen war and slavery and imprisonment and torture, but that moment, that moment Blair went through, is the most awful thing I've ever seen. And it was only one day in six months. One day in six months of the same thing."

Jack looked at Jace carefully, as if waiting for a reaction. Jace kept his face neutral.

"So, I got her out of the court and bound her to me. She naturally assumed that I was going to use her like the fey did. But when she realised I wasn't she slowly began to trust me. She stopped shaking; she learned how to use her powers. She became confident, and her resentment for the fey grew.

"Of course, she went looking for her sisters as soon as she was strong enough. Only to find one was a werewolf, and the other was a vampire. Nat, the vampire, even now won't talk to Blair because she blames her for the death of her parents. And the worst thing is that Blair blames herself for it too. She still watches out for her sisters. She has bailed them out of trouble a few times in the last two years." Then Jack smiled. He smiled and looked at Jace again. And said so firmly his words vibrated, "So yes, the world owes her a hell of a lot. And she doesn't owe anyone anything. Not even you Shadowhunters who believe the earth were created just for you to shine."

"Why didn't she say anything?" Jace asked quietly.

"She doesn't like being the victim. She hated herself with Etihad. And she would never try and evoke sympathy from someone. She thinks it's pathetic."

"Yeah."

Jack paused, then turned on Jace again. "So, are you going to tell me again that Blair is self-centred? Is there any time she has ever put herself above others?"

Jace thought through everything Blair had done. She'd saved her sisters and sacrificed herself. She'd taken a fatal bullet for Alec. She saved Clary's life only to lose her own. Every single thing Blair had ever done was for another person.

And there it was.

She acted selfish and egotistical to hide her self-destruction. She knew she would end up dying for someone else, and this was how she showed the world she wasn't a hero. She was, she just didn't want to be. She only ever wanted to be a silent hero. A hero with no glory or name. That was why she was never interested in being a Shadowhunter. She didn't ever want to be known for what she did. She just wanted to be, literally, a shadow who saved the world in tiny slivers.

"I kissed her," Jack suddenly said. "In the book store. I kissed her. It was why she was so angry. Upset. Confused. I kissed her."

"Oh." Jace didn't know what to say.

* * *

When they got to the Institute the night wind was blowing litter and leaves around the ground. Jack looked nervous. He wouldn't stop moving.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?" Jace asked.

"More than anything."

Jace nodded and moved to the doors. Jack followed. The moment they entered the Institute and got into the elevator, Jace expected Jack to react. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, considering usually when vampires held a cross or something similar it just burnt them. But this was different. Perhaps Jace had been expecting Jack to explode. Which seemed ridiculous even to him.

"We'd better make this a quick visit," Jack said.

And that was when Jace noticed just how the Institute was affecting Jack. His veins were pulsing, his skin going a shade of red as if his blood was trying to escape through his skin.

Jace quickened his pace. "Maryse is going to be pissed. You're the first – only – vampire to ever enter a church, let alone a Shadowhunter Institute."

Jack only nodded in response. It seemed too hard for him to answer with words.

They got to the infirmary, and found Magnus and Clary around Blair. Maryse was there too, watching over the proceedings like a hawk. She looked up at Jace as he entered, relief flooding her features. Then, stiffened as she saw Jack, who was already striding towards Blair. He staggered and stumbled as if he were drunk. His veins, popping out of his skin almost looked as if the blood was bubbling.

"What did you do Jace?" Maryse asked.

Jace just shook his head at her. She seemed to understand. Reluctantly.

Jack was already at Blair's bedside.

He looked down at her as if he were going to pass out. Jace wondered if that was because of the church, or because of the awful sight of Blair. It hurt Jace to look at her; he couldn't imagine what it'd be doing to Jack.

"Ancilla Dextra Perdita," Jack mumbled. Jace heard the latin, and realised this must be her true name. "You must get better. Ancilla Dextra Perdita, you must not die."

He leaned over her, kissed her gently once, then said, "I need to get out of here."

* * *

As Jack lurched forward out of the Institute, he threw up into the garden, on his hands and knees, sucking in huge lungfuls of air.

"I won't be doing that again," he muttered.

"That's probably a good idea."

"I think my blood was boiling."

Jace was worried for a second, but Jack sat up, paused, then stood, steadying himself on a stonewall.

"I'll get back home. Call me if anything changes."

"Sure. Is there anything else you need?" Jace asked.

Jack stopped for a second, then said, "I want a seraph blade."

Jace shook his head. "You can't use a seraph blade. It'll kill you."

"Preferably with as much speed and efficiency as possible."

Jace closed his eyes. "No."

"I have nothing Jace. I don't have a family. I have nothing. And before I met Blair, nothing was fine. But now, it's not. I can't-"

"And what about Blair's sisters?"

Jack stiffened. Jace had struck a chord. "I promised her," he said under his breath. "Fine." He nodded curtly at Jace, pulled his jacket around him tightly, and then walked away, his steps slightly wobbly.

* * *

**A/N: Finally, the real reason behind Blair. Sorry took so long to get to. After this chapter there will be another two before I finish the story. So, keep the reviews coming, and don't forget the poll. I got 150 reviews, which is awesome, so thanks all. **

**I've started writing a prequel, but between school and life I'm not really sure if time will let me finish it. If people are interested in reading about Jack and Blair before this fanfic, please tell me, and I'll continue writing. Otherwise it's probably not worth it...  
**

**Jess**


	20. Healing

**Chapter 19 – Healing**

From the moment Jack, Blair's vampire friend, had spoken to her Magnus could feel her immune system kicking in.

"She's getting better," Magnus whispered.

"What?" Clary asked.

"She's getting better. I mean, it's going to take a while, but she's going to live." Suddenly, Magnus was all business. "Everyone out. I'm going to try and speed this up." No one moved. Magnus glared. "Out."

The room cleared, and blue sparks began flowing from Magnus's fingers.

* * *

Maryse was waiting for Jace as soon as the elevator dinged.

"A vampire? You brought a vampire into the Institute?" she accused.

"He's in love with her. He's the vampire she lives with. The one she's bound to. He loves her and he deserved to see her before she died. Don't tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing."

Maryse sighed. "Yes. I suppose you are right. I do need to trust your judgement, Jace. You're an adult now, and sometimes I think you have to remind me of that. It isn't as if you were going to bring an unsafe vampire into the Institute." Maryse shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm tired."

Jace only nodded.

"Oh," Maryse began, "Magnus said that Blair might be getting better. Just thought you'd like to know."

Jace nodded again.

"And Clary is back in her room. Magnus didn't want her in the infirmary while he was trying to heal Blair."

"Thanks, Maryse," Jace said, taking a breath. Clary. He hadn't realised how much he needed her. It seemed as though everything was piling on top of him, and it was only Clary that could drag him out. Of course it was. Who else would it be?

Jace turned away, and began towards Clary's room. As he got closer and closer his pace sped up, and soon he was running through the Institute to Clary. He got to her door and threw it open without knocking. Clary was lying in her bed, looking to Isabelle, who was sitting beside her. The sight of Clary relieved Jace so much so that he walked to her bedside and leant down to her, kissing her without a thought. He wound one hand into her beautifully soft hair, and the other slid over her body, pulling her into him. He'd missed her. He'd just felt so distant ever since Blair had entered their lives. It felt good to have her back.

Isabelle made a gagging sound and distantly Jace heard her say, "You'd think I'm invisible." But it was playful; Isabelle understood.

When Jace finally let Clary go, Isabelle had left the room, shutting the door behind her. Jace kicked off his shoes and slid over the covers of the bed laying beside Clary, their bodies only separated by the blankets over her.

"You scared me," he whispered into her neck.

"_You_ scared _me_," she said back, turning her face to his. Jace kissed her again, and felt her smile against his lips.

* * *

The Inquisitor stared at the child before him. All his plans had very quickly fallen apart in the most recent stunt pulled by the Lightwood children. He'd been warned they were smart and reckless, but had never thought they would do something like this. In fact, all of his plans had practically become redundant. Blair wasn't an issue anymore – she could do what she wanted. Her connections with the Seelie Court weren't as desirable as the Clave and the Inquisitor had first thought. Blair's vampire friend was also useless now. It all came down to Atraco.

And what on earth was the Inquisitor supposed to do with this regretful mundane child? Not only was the boy in danger from the Seelie Court, he was a danger. He could hardly be released back into society – he'd be killed by the first faery he saw. But he could hardly be punished like a Shadowhunter.

"What is your name, boy?" the Inquisitor asked.

"Eoin," he answered timidly. "What happened to the faery? The girl who was shot? Is she okay?"

"You were the one who shot her, why are you so worried about her well-being?"

"She saved me."

The Inquisitor sighed. There was really only one thing he could do with the boy. First he'd have to contact the Clave. He would need to organise a deal with the Seelie Queen to make sure she wouldn't kill Eoin the first chance she got. Then…

"Stay here, Eoin. I need to talk to a few people. I'll be back in a moment."

Eoin nodded, looking like nothing more than an obedient child. Could it be possible that the faery – Blair – had somehow changed this boy so suddenly? The Inquisitor let out another breath and left the library to find the Lightwoods. Maryse and Robert were in the kitchen with Jocelyn and Luke, talking softly between each other. When the Inquisitor entered everyone fell silent.

"Eoin will be killed the moment he's not protected by Shadowhunters, but as far as I can tell he has no other family. I honestly don't know what to do with him other than take him back to Iridis and let the Clave find a home for him there. I don't think he's a bad kid, and he's too young to imprison anyway."

"We've been talking," Maryse cut in. She seemed hesitant, looking to Robert without her usual confidence. "We could take him in. He'll be too out of place in Iridis anyway; at least here he'll be among some humans. And we can look after him until he finds a home, or the Seelie Queen isn't intent on killing him."

The Inquisitor pursed his lips to keep from smiling. Good people were always too easy to predict. "Are you sure?" the Inquisitor asked seriously. "This is a rather large task to take on; Eoin isn't the most… stable child."

"He's not a _task,_" Maryse said sharply. "He's a boy."

_Just like your youngest child, Max,_ the Inquisitor thought, but didn't even consider saying aloud. "Then, yes, I suppose I could talk to the Clave and have arrangements made."

Maryse nodded stiffly. Robert walked to her and put his hand on the small of her back, comforting her with the small gesture. Maryse leaned into him as if he had just taken a huge weight off her shoulders. "He deserves a chance – like any child should."

* * *

Isabelle, now without anyone to talk to and wishing Simon was with her, took a walk to the library. She'd thought about seeing Alec, but she knew he'd be irritating at the moment, worrying about Magnus.

But as soon as Isabelle stepped into the library, she almost fainted – which was something of a feat for Isabelle, who hadn't fainted a day in her life. Max… It took Isabelle a moment to catch her breath and realise it wasn't Max at all, but Eoin. He was curled up in an armchair – so similar to the way Max used to – reading one of Max's old comic books. Isabelle's heart lurched and she took a hasty – not a word usually attached to her – step back, knocking her leg on the edge of a book shelf and almost swearing.

Eoin looked up at her and quickly shot out of the seat, dropping the comic book he'd been reading. "I'm sorry," he said under his breath. Isabelle tried to be angry with the boy who'd almost killed her brother and Clary and basically been the cause of Blair's near-death, but she just couldn't. As much as she hated to admit it, he was just a kid – a messed up kid – and he reminded her of Max.

"You're reading a comic book?" she asked, pointing at the face down book lying on the floor.

"Sorry," Eoin stuttered, looking at his hands. "I just… I don't know how to read… no one ever taught me, and I'd never seen a comic book before. I can sort of understand it just by looking at the pictures." Eoin snuck a look at Isabelle, looking terrified of her. "Sorry," he said again.

Isabelle moved forward, bending down to pick up the comic. "This is my little brother's," she said, her voice breaking slightly. "He was a few years younger than you."

Eoin looked up, his face full of excitement. "You have a little brother? Is he here?"

Isabelle looked at Eoin seriously. He honestly seemed thrilled just at the thought of another boy around his age. Then Isabelle realised why. "Have you ever… met anyone your age before?"

Eoin looked embarrassed. "I've seen them in shopping malls with their friends or mothers. And I've seen them playing in the park, and at schools."

It almost pained Isabelle the way Eoin spoke of other kids as if they were foreign objects. Eoin had always seen another world – and human children didn't belong in that world.

"You don't have any friends, do you?"

Eoin shrugged, a very adult gesture, as if to show he didn't care. "Faeries hurt humans." Something struck Isabelle – Eoin was too scared to have friends in case faeries hurt them. It seemed very selfless for someone who'd just tried to kill a group of Shadowhunters.

Eoin only knew one life, and it was life full of evil and pain. He hadn't had a family, never even met a boy his own age – who could blame him for the way he was? "My little brother died last year," Isabelle said quickly to stop her throat from drying up.

Eoin looked to the ground, his face suddenly scrunched up in a look of pain and desperation. "Faeries?" he asked.

"No," Isabelle answered. "A demon."

Eoin sniffed once, and Isabelle realised there were tears dripping from his eyes. "Sorry," he said, as if it was his fault Max was dead.

"What did you think was going to happen today? Did you really believe you would win?"

Eoin shook his head, refusing to look up and show his tears. There was something familiar about Eoin… Isabelle just couldn't pin it. "I thought… if I killed you, everything would be better. The faeries would leave me alone."

Then, it clicked. Eoin was just like Blair. A younger version, with perhaps a little less emotional control, but he was exactly the same. They both constantly held up this… defence so they didn't show their emotions. Faeries exploited emotions, and this was their protection. If you're heartless, nothing can hurt you. But neither Blair nor Eoin was heartless, which was the greatest flaw in their guard.

"It doesn't work like that," Isabelle told him, handing the comic book back to him.

Eoin looked up at her suddenly, his eyes swimming in tears, and began speaking rapidly, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to try and shoot that boy, and I'm sorry about the faery. She saved me. And your friend – the girl with the red hair. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." Eoin's hands shook as his lips trembled with tears. Isabelle thought he would try to hug her – like most twelve year kids would when they're scared – but he just took a step away from her, burying his face in his hands the comic book falling to the ground again.

Perhaps Blair was beyond repair, but this boy wasn't. Isabelle, feeling a pang of grief, walked to Eoin, and put her arms around him, trying to be gentle so as not to scare him. "I'm Isabelle," she said. "You can call me Izzy."

Eoin wrapped his arms around Isabelle, crying into her. He kept repeating two sentences over and over again: "They are going to kill me," and "I'm sorry." Isabelle didn't know how to answer, so she didn't.

* * *

Magnus, again and again, threw bursts of magic into Blair's iron soaked blood, slowly ridding her of the metal that was intent on killing her. She shuddered every now and then, her body shaking with fever. Finally, at some ungodly hour of the morning, Magnus fell into a chair, feeling more exhausted than ever. Blair's body glowed with Magnus' magic, combined with her own, as her body – and Jack's words – commanded her to live.

The door to the infirmary opened softly, and Alec crept in, sitting beside Magnus and taking his hand. "I'm sorry," Alec whispered.

"What for?"

Alec shrugged. "You're… you're just… you do so much for us – me. Thank you. You're…" Alec looked to him, struggling to find words. "Perfect."

Magnus' heart swelled and he leaned in, kissing Alec softly. As he pulled away, Alec's eyes were closed, as if he was savouring the moment. After a few seconds both Magnus and Alec had composed themselves and Alec asked, "How's she doing? Is she going to live?"

"Yes. She should. She just needs rest now. And I doubt her leg will ever heal completely. Her magic won't be any good for at least a few weeks."

"But she'll live," Alec said, sounding relieved.

"You don't need to feel guilty. Blair always does stupid things like this. It was inevitable."

Alec looked confused. "What do you mean she 'always does things like this'?"

Magnus laughed softly. "You think this is the first time I've had to heal her? You've no idea how many times Jack has shown up on my front door, Blair unconscious in his arms because she's thrown herself in front of a steel train or some greater demon for a mundane."

Alec almost wanted to laugh – at least he knew why Magnus was so protective of Blair.

"Come on," Magnus said standing. "Blair needs rest, and I also need to sleep. You got a bed around here?"

Alec just smiled and took Magnus' hand in his.

* * *

Blair stayed in her restless sleep for just over five days. When she woke, Jace was by her bedside, her first word a name. And for a split second, Jace was terrified that it was his. "Jack." Her voice was nothing more than a breath.

"He's not here. You're at the Institute."

At the sound of his voice, Blair opened her crimson eyes. "Clary?"

"She's fine. You and Magnus healed her."

Blair closed her eyes again. "Am I dying?"

"You were. You're getting better now."

"Eoin. Is he still here?" Blair asked.

"Yes."

"He needs protection. The Queen will want to kill him. If–"

"Blair," Jace said softly to calm her, "He's staying here. With Maryse and Robert."

"Oh… well, that's… good."

"Isabelle's taken to him," Jace smiled playfully. "She won't admit it, but she likes him. Secretly, she's been teaching him to read."

Blair tried to smile, but it didn't work. She looked exhausted. "I'm sorry about Alec's stele."

At that, Jace laughed. "I don't think he minds all that much, considering you saved his life after all."

Blair closed her eyes. "I thought I heard Jack's voice… it was so strange…"

"He was here."

Blair's eyes flicked open. "What? But… it's a church and-"

"And he has some of your blood. Not sure how it worked – maybe it was just will power. He wasn't too well afterwards."

"Jack's an idiot."

"He loves you."

Blair suddenly froze up. "Don't… don't say that. Please."

Jace nodded just as Magnus threw open the door to the infirmary, pausing for a second, as if for dramatic effect, then strode to Blair's bedside. "Finally awake, girly," he said with a grin.

"I don't know," Blair groaned.

"Well, you'll still be weak for a few more days. And I doubt your magic will be any good for at least another few weeks-"

"Oh great," Blair muttered sarcastically, "Bed bound and magic free. Perfect."

"Hey, be thankful you're alive," Magnus nodded to her, running his hands over her, checking her health quickly with his magic.

Blair swatted him away weakly. "Let me sleep."

Magnus rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I'll be back."

* * *

As soon a Blair could produce even the weakest glamour she practically demanded that she be taken to Jack's. Everyone protested, saying that even a cab would make her sick, but she was stubbornly adamant.

"I'm over the pretty church and pretty shadowhunters," she'd say. "I'm going home."

Finally Magnus agreed to let her out of the Institute, on the condition that he escort her. Blair had given in, muttering something about over-dramatic warlocks.

In the cab on the way to Jack's house, more than once they had to pull over quickly to let Blair out of the metal car so she could get some fresh air and, once or twice, throw up from the nausea. When they finally arrived, Blair was almost green looking, and she was practically too weak to stand. Magnus carried her to the front door, as it opened, Jack standing before them.

"I want to get better. Rest for a bit," Blair said softly, taking Jack's hand.

Jack's heart sank. "Sure. I get it. You'll need to stay at the Institute for a while."

Blair smiled softly. "No. I want to get better with you. Here."

"Oh." Jack smiled. He wanted to kiss her, but fear took hold. He didn't want to scare her away after he just got her back. He hugged her instead, and then took her from Magnus and carried her to her bedroom. Jack watched her for a moment, just glad to have her back, then went to help Magnus get her stuff out of the cab. When they got back she was asleep in her bed, curled up on her blankets.

"She's going to need a hell of a lot of rest," Magnus told Jack. "Especially after trekking all the way out here."

Jack nodded, watching her sleep. "I'll look after her."

* * *

Every night, at exactly two o'clock in the morning Blair felt the pain in her leg. The same pain she had felt that night. It woke her up, lasted for an hour or so, and then disappeared. For an hour she would writhe in pain, trying to forget and sleep, without it ever coming. Then it would go and after another hour or so, she could sleep again.

Blair just felt constantly tired. Jack noticed. "You haven't been sleeping. Have you?"

Blair sighed. "I try. But I get pains in my leg and I just can't."

Jack seemed hesitant. "Perhaps tonight you should… I don't know," he shrugged.

"Sleep with me. Not, like, sex or anything. I just mean, in the… my bed." Jack wanted to sink into the floor. He sounded so lame.

They hadn't spoken of the kiss since it happened. Both too terrified to bring it up, even if it was the only thing either of them thought about.

"Yeah. I would like that," Blair said softly. Again, she lacked that confidence Jack so wanted her to have. He didn't want her slipping back into her depression.

* * *

Blair was curled up in the large armchair by the heater in the lounge room. She had a steaming mug in her hands, and her eyes were closed. Jack moved forward, carefully trying to take the cup away from her without waking her.

She woke up the instant he touched her. "Jack," she said, alarmed.

"It's okay. I just wanted to take away the boiling cup of tea before you burnt yourself."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologise." Jack stared at Blair carefully. She was the same unconfident scared girl he'd saved from the Seelie Court a year ago. And it terrified him. He didn't want her to have to start again with her life. And he wasn't sure if he'd be able to pick up all the pieces again.

There was an awkward silence for a second, then Jack asked, "What did you want to eat tonight? I can't be bothered cooking, did you want pizza or something?"

"Sure," Blair answered, but she looked as if she was in a daze.

Again, Jack just tried to remember her as the girl he loved – he would just have to push through it. He could save her again. He'd done it last time. _And it'd almost killed me_, Jack reminded himself, but simultaneously tried to ignore the thought.

* * *

It took a few weeks, but Blair regained her strength and her magic became stronger. Dee came to visit a few times, cheering up Blair each time she did. Jack relaxed, and almost felt as though she was falling for her all over again. It almost hurt him. Each night they would sink into bed together – there was never anything sexual or even romantic, but in the morning they would always wake, tangled in each other's arms as if they'd been together as a couple for years.

One morning Blair woke up and her leg was uncharacteristically sore for that time of day. Jack woke up the moment Blair did and began massaging the pain away for her. It was as he was doing this that he just said, thinking aloud more than anything, "You deserve so much more-"

Blair cut him off, pre-empting what he was about to say. "No. I don't deserve anything. I don't believe in that. Things happen, and you deal with them."

Jack looked to her. "But-"

Again Blair cut him off, "The world, the universe, God, Satan; they don't owe me anything. I don't owe them anything. I do what I do because it's what I want to do and it's what I believe is right. You know that."

"I just think… it's not fair and-"

"So what? Life's not fair. Call it what you like, but I suppose I was fated for this. I've never told you this, but my true name – well, some of my true name at least, means maid, slave. Another part of my name mean dextrous or skilful. And the last part of my name is from a story. It means lost, and the story follows a girl abandoned by her father, who believes that she's the child of another. Does that mean from birth I was handed this personality? Handed my fate? Handed the terrible things that have happened in my life? Told who I am and why I do the things I do?" Blair paused, looking at Jack carefully. "Someone's name is crafted from who they are and who they're going to be. This is my true name because this was always who I going to be. I don't deserve anything. Just as I believe no one else does."

Jack paused, removing his hands from Blair's thigh. "Better?"

"A little."

"You're just…" Jack sighed and decided to just say it. "You're beautiful."

"I'm a faery. I didn't get a choice-"

But she was cut off, as Jack kissed her sharply. Blair knew she should pull away, but she didn't want to. She hadn't realised how desperate she'd been for his kiss since the last time. She wrapped her arms around him and let him lay her on the bed, pulling himself over her body. Jack trailed kisses over her neck and collarbone, running his hands over the sides of her body, making her moan in a way Etihad had never been able to. Jack put a hand around Blair's knee and pulled her thigh around his waist, rolling over, and pulling Blair on top of him. He kissed her harder, pressing her body into him, savouring ever moment she was so close to him, as if he would lose her at any moment.

This thought made Blair freeze. That was just it – Jack was scared that she would run. And Blair knew why. Because she did run. She always ran. Blair let go of Jack and jumped from him hastily. "I can't do this, Jack."

Jack sat up, looking disappointed and frustrated more than anything. "I suppose I should've expected that. It was worth a try."

"You know me-"

"Yeah, don't worry. I know how you run every time someone shows even the smallest amount of affection. I get it." He was angry. It flowed from him easily. Blair was… surprised. Of course, she shouldn't have been – Jack had every right to be angry. It was just that… well, Jack was hardly ever angry with _her_.

Jack got up and walked into the kitchen. Blair followed. She leaned on the counter, facing away from Jack. "Was it you? Was it you who sold Atraco the Shadowhunter blood?"

Jack sighed, "Yes."

Blair nodded slowly, and turned to look at him. "Where'd you get it?"

"I had it from years ago – before I'd met you. I'd been in the streets of Chicago actually, and I stumbled across a Shadowhunter fighting off a demon. I hung back, not ready to get myself killed – by either the Shadowhunter or the demon – and well, the demon won. It took whatever it needed from the Shadowhunter body – presumably life energy – then just left it laying there. I know the price of any sort of Shadowhunter weaponry and so I searched the body. Then, the idea struck me to take the blood. I figured it must have some sort of special qualities, and if someone were ever to ask for it, I'd have some. Anyway, it wasn't as if this guy was going to need it anymore. So, I took a little – just a small amount, in an old water bottle I found on the street. Then, I left. I turned the blood into powder form, and put it away. No one asked for a while, and I almost forgot about it. Then the human asked for it, and, well, I had some. Paid a large price too. But I never knew what he needed it for. Don't ask, don't tell. Always better to be left in the dark. Knowledge is power, and that power can get you killed."

It was the first time Blair and Jack had ever really talked about what Jack did. She knew, of course, but she didn't need to know the details. Jack worked with the filth of the Downworld, and she wasn't interested in that. Jack respected this.

"You didn't tell me?" she asked him.

"I didn't think you'd be involved. And anyway, I told you, I didn't know what the kid was going to use it for."

Blair was suddenly angry. "You knew it was kid?"

Jack looked at her, his anger mirroring her own. "Yeah. So what?"

"He's twelve, Jack. Didn't you think that maybe a kid so young shouldn't be involved in something to do with illegal Shadowhunter blood?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "At twelve I'd been put in an 'orphanage' for possession of weaponry and selling illegal drugs across the border." In his day an 'orphanage' was practically just a concentration camp for no-hoper kids.

Blair was suddenly furious. "So, you wanted this kid to end up like _you_ then?"

Jack took a step back and stumbled, as if Blair had hit him. His jaw locked and his next words were said through clenched teeth. "Right, because I suppose I'm just scum to you, aren't I? Nothing like those beautiful, perfect Shadowhunters, right?"

"That's not what I meant, Jack, and you know it."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and both of them jumped. They hadn't been paying attention.

"I'll get it," Jack said, moving swiftly towards the door, his movements stilted with anger. If Blair wasn't so furious herself, she might feel guilty.

When Jace strode in, Blair was nothing short of thrown. She'd been completely lost in Jack's world that she'd practically forgotten the Shadowhunter world. Jack followed, his anger only escalating. Blair could see his muscles tensed beneath the shirt he was wearing. It was just like the last time, and Blair was sure Jack didn't appreciate the irony.

"Hi Jace," she said softly.

"Hey Blair."

"What did you need?" Blair was anxious.

"The Clave has basically allowed you to do anything you want," Jace seemed… happy. "You can go back to your life with Jack, or stay at the Institute as a Shadowhunter, and they don't mind if you do, or don't want to find your parents either."

"The Clave is giving me anything I want? And all I had to do was almost die. I'll keep that in mind for next time," Blair tried to joke. She glanced up at Jack, who was staring into his drink.

"I'll go," he muttered, turning and walking away.

"Wait. What?" Blair asked, standing.

Jack paused, facing away from her and said, "This should be a decision you make by yourself." Then he walked into another room.

Blair followed. Jace, sensing the fight to come stayed in the kitchen, away from the pair. Blair shut the door as she entered the living room where Jack had disappeared. Jack was facing the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "No. No. What are you doing, Jack?" she asked.

He turned to face her. "Look. You want to go back? Then go back. Don't think about me. Just go."

"Why are you doing this?" Blair sounded hurt.

"Why do you think?" Jack sounded even more pained. They hadn't spoken of the kiss since it happened.

"Jack… I-"

"No. It's probably a good thing you go. Being around you all the time… hurts."

"I…what? You've never said anything? Why does it hurt?" Blair seemed confused.

Jack was suddenly angry. "Why does it hurt?! Because I'm in love with you, Blair. Because I want you!"

Blair stepped back. "I love you too, but, you're my protector. You know. My guardian. My saviour."

"Yeah," Jack said bitterly, "I'm well aware of what I am to you."

"I'm sorry. I just… I just want everything to go back to the way it was before," Blair said with a sigh.

"Well, it can't go back. Everything's changed." Jack couldn't look at her. "You should go. I think I want you to go back to the Institute."

Blair looked dumbfounded. "What? You're… you're kicking me out?"

Jack look up to her. "Blair, please. I need you to go. I can't… handle you being around all the time. In my bed."

"You were the one who suggested that!"

"And I've hardly been able to sleep for the last three weeks!" Jack looked at the floor. "I just… can't do it anymore."

"What are you going to do instead?"

_Die?_ Jack thought. "Survive," he answered.

* * *

Blair threw a few things into a bag and followed Jace silently to the subway. She didn't say anything the whole way to the Institute. It was only when Jace couldn't stand the silence that he asked, "Do you really only think of him as a friend? Honestly?"

"I can't lie," Blair answered blankly.

"But you never said that you _only _saw Jack as your protector."

Blair didn't look at Jace as she answered with, "I told him what he wanted to hear."

"That you don't love him?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't want to hear that."

"He thinks he doesn't want to hear that. But Jace, Christ, look at me. I'm a wreak. I'm not like Eoin – I can't be fixed. I would just destroy Jack. I… can't love anyway."

"What about your sisters – you love them?"

"That's different."

"No, it's not."

"Etihad ruined me!" Blair suddenly burst out. "I know what relationships are supposed to be about – trust. I can't trust. I would run from Jack and ruin him in the same way Etihad ruined me. I can't do that to him."

"Because you love him."

"Exactly."

* * *

**A/N: So, second last chapter. I really enjoyed writing it, which is probably why it's so long - sorry about that. It's a little stuttery, but I hope that isn't too much of an issue. **

**Hope everyone likes... so review and vote on the poll on my profile. I should have the last chapter up by next week. **

**Jess**


	21. Blair's End Final Chapter

**A/N: Found that usually I write better in first person, so this, final, chapter is from Blair's point of view.**

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* * *

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**Chapter 20 – Blair's End**

I saw Nat before I heard her. It was only a couple of days after Jack had kicked me out, and I'd been wandering the streets around the Institute, bored and searching for some kind of meaning.

"Blair," Nat said softly. I was instantly comforted by my sister's familiar Australian accent. Nat was standing in the doorway of an old apartment building, black clothes stark against her blond hair that was blowing in the wind. "I want to talk to you."

I moved to my sister who was sheltered in the shadows and said, "Yes?"

"Raphael told me everything. Everything that happened to you. Things, I didn't realise you'd done. For me. And Dee. Things in the Seelie Court, and with the Shadowhunters."

"Raphael doesn't think too highly of me," I said, quietly. He never had. It hadn't been a problem until he started liking my sister.

"No, but he thinks highly of me. And he said I should talk to you. I don't blame you for what happened to Mum and Dad. I never did. I was just angry. And hurt. I mean, Dee was a werewolf and you were a faery and I was dead-"

"I get it," I laughed softly. "It's fine. I get it." And I did. After everything, Nat's reaction was probably one of things I understood the most. Gee, I didn't even resent her for hating me. I would've hated me too.

"You've changed," Nat said.

"So have you." I looked her up and down with a playful speculating look. Nat smiled. "And Raphael? Is he treating you right?"

"He treats me like a queen." If Nat could blush, she would've been blushing now. My chest ached a little. I hadn't had a real conversation with her in two years. We were so close before. Faeries never knew how far the consequences of their actions went. But how could they? They didn't understand emotional responses, so why should they even consider it. They took my sisters to use as leverage on me, and nothing more.

"Good. If he didn't I'd have to have a serious talk with him."

"He loves me," Nat said seriously. She stood there, frozen in her fourteen-year-old body, talking about something that was so mature. She was technically sixteen now, but she'd grown up beyond her years after everything that had happened. We all had. Although love was still one thing I hadn't quite wrapped my head around. The thought of Jack hit me, and I felt the back of my eyes prickle with tears. I pushed them away.

"I know."

"How do you know? Raphael doesn't talk to you or Jack. None of Raphael's vampires do."

"That night, at Pandemonium, when I tried to talk to you," I reminded her. The only reason I'd gone into Pandemonium the night I met Jace was to try and talk to Nat. She wouldn't have any of it, of course, and stormed out on me. I'd ordered a drink of water after that, just to clear all those irrational emotions that were building up in my mouth and nose that made me feel like I was I was drowning. That was about when Jace came in. I'd been so scared of that golden boy with all the confidence in the world. "I met Raphael in the back alley. He was looking for you to tell you he loved you. I could taste it on him."

"Oh," Nat said. There was silence for a moment, then Nat asked me, "Is it true? About you being really strong and whatever?"

I smiled softly. "Yeah. I suppose it's true. Because I grew up with you, in the mundane world, I was constantly exposed to iron. I built up a resistance. And the Shadowhunter and vampire blood makes me stronger too."

"How strong?"

I laughed. "I wouldn't be scared of walking into Durmort Hotel by myself."

This time Nat laughed. "You couldn't take on the whole coven."

I raised an eyebrow with a grin. "Trust me, I can hold my own. And vampires are too easy. One knock on the head and you're out for a good few hours."

"Impressed," Nat nodded in approval. She looked at me carefully, then out into the world of sunlight she couldn't ever experience again. She took a step further back into the darkness, as if she were afraid of the sunlight chasing her. "Did you ever find your real parents?"

"No. I don't want to. They're irrelevant." And they were. What meaning did they have to me except the colour of my eyes or how tall I am?

"I can't believe Mum and Dad never said anything to us."

"I was only fifteen when they were killed. And they didn't know I wasn't human. They probably felt no real rush to tell me I was adopted." I'd never blamed my parents for not telling me I was adopted. It was probably a hard thing to face, and as I got older, it just got harder.

"I suppose." Nat took a breath, and then asked the one question I'd been too terrified to ask myself. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"I don't know… Everything has just… turned to crap," I muttered.

Nat nodded.

I sighed heavily and said, "I think I might go back to Australia."

"What?" Nat looked alarmed.

"There's nothing for me here anymore. You and Dee are looking after yourselves, and I lost…" Again, the pickling sensation at the back of my eyes. My throat felt dry, my chest heavy.

"Jack?"

"Yeah."

"Well… say hello to Rexie for me," Nat smiled. Rexie had been our dog. I wondered what had happened to him. He'd probably be with one of our aunts.

"Sure," I nodded.

"And don't forget to come back," Nat said to me. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too."

"When are you going?"

Honestly, the idea had only just struck me then. "Now," I decided. All or nothing. This was my chance, I was taking it.

"Oh," Nat seemed surprised. "Well… good luck."

* * *

I didn't take anything with me. I didn't retrieve anything from the Institute for fear of seeing the Shadowhunters. I didn't dare go back to my house for fear of seeing Jack. And anyway, I reasoned everything that I'd left at home in Australia would still be there, where I'd left it. Unless for some reason some of Mum's family had cleared out the house, but I had serious doubts about this. They thought I'd just run away when Mum and Dad were dead. I had a feeling they would've left everything for when they thought I'd return. Two years was a long time, but it wasn't forever.

I just kept having this terrifying feeling of emptiness. An emptiness that kept asking me, _so, Blair, what now? You lost Jack. The Shadowhunters don't want you. Your sisters don't need you anymore. What are you going to do?_ And all I could scream back was, _I don't know!_

There was a stab of pain in my leg and I winced. When was that going to go away? Or was I going to be stuck with this reminder forever? The pain clarified my thoughts. I was going to go back to Australia, and see if I could reconcile some sort of relationship with some of my mum's family.

_And then what?_ the emptiness taunted. _Going to just go back to school and become a doctor like you always dreamed of? Watch all those mortals die while you live on forever? See your hatred reflected in their eyes as they are gifted with death and all you can do is live. _

I tried to push those self-destructive thoughts out of my head. I tried to ignore that impulse to drive an iron blade into my heart. Because of course I didn't want to die. I was just like a child who wanted what they couldn't have, then when they got it, they were bitterly disappointed.

So, Blair, what do you want? Your life is empty. You have no family. You lost all your friends when you lost your humanity. And you practically destroyed Jack.

I can build a life for myself, I reasoned. But inwardly I hated myself. The voice. The voice that was as constant as the flow of emotions that always stung my tongue. The voice that was Etihad's smooth, cool faery lilt. What it would be like to not have his voice in my head to fill me with self-loathing and disgust. Of course, there was a time when Etihad's voice didn't tell me I was worthless. But I can hardly even remember that. All I knew now was his voice in my head, projecting my own thoughts back to me in the most frightening way.

_You could just go back to the Seelie Court. Back to Etihad. _ And I was well aware of what this was. This was my one hope that if I returned, Etihad would have changed into a kind and loving person, and therefore restoring my faith in faeries… and love. But Etihad was a sadist, and you can't change sadists. I'd never wanted to hate fey, but, by default, I just did. I knew they weren't all bad, but it was like anything else, sometimes the bad just outshone the good.

I knew I was running. I was running like a frightened child. Except that it wasn't just fear, I just simply didn't want to deal with it all. Cowardly and pathetic, I was well aware. But I just couldn't… I couldn't deal with… everything. With the Shadowhunters and the faeries and Jack. I wasn't someone who… dealt with emotions well. Not since Etihad. I couldn't cope with this now. I doubted I'd ever be able cope with it. I was pretending my sisters and Jack would be okay when I left. I was pretending, that was all.

I got a cab and directed the driver to the nearest airport. Impulsive and stupid. Like most of my actions nowadays. I glamoured myself a passport and bought a plane ticket with a magic glamoured credit card that would erase all details as soon as I'd left the counter. Then I got on the first flight home.

* * *

I stepped out of the airport and immediately noticed the dry air. It was late October and just beginning to get hot. Melbourne winters were traditionally bitterly cold, but the summers were so hot bushfires raged. I got into one of the taxis that were always humming in a bay in front of the terminal. With no bags I felt empty. The taxi driver began to get out of the car to help me with my bags, but he realised I had none, gave a strange look, then got back into the driver's seat without a word.

Driving on the left was probably the first thing I noticed after spending two years in New York. The movement of the car was soothing even if metal surrounding me made me feel a little nauseous. I'd given the taxi driver the address of my old house, almost feeling anxious to see the home I'd left. I knew I'd have to use magic to get in considering I didn't have any keys.

We travelled along the freeway for maybe half an hour before we began passing though the suburban areas. First Greensborough, which had the large shopping centre my friends and I would go to after school in Year 7. Then Watsonia, where I used to take dance lessons at the small church. There was a great library there, which I'd always gorged myself in. There were an amazing number of schools, mostly public, in such a small area. We passed my primary school, then my high school, finally the tennis courts and large soccer oval with a playground that was a hundred or so metres from my house. And finally we pulled into my street. I pointed to my house and the taxi driver pulled into the drive. There were no letters in the letterbox, and the lights were off. The grass in the front garden was mostly yellow and dead, unable to survive the last few years without being watered. The curtains were drawn, so I couldn't see into the house. There was stillness.

People knew the story – my story – well. Probably another reason why no one ever bought the house. The story had been splashed all over the news. The girl who's parents had been murdered – their bodies left in pools of blood for her to find when she came home from school – and her sisters missing without a trace. I was the sob story for the week. Interviewed and questioned by the stupidest of newsreaders who masqueraded as _journalists._

They treated me as if I didn't speak their language, talking down to me, using slow, drawn out words, as if to help my understanding of what had happened. Questions like, "What did you do when you saw your mother and father?"

My response was, "I called you so you could film me and shove microphones into my face. That way you're distracting me from thinking about who killed my parents and instead making me want to kill you." After that they didn't air anything I said live. I suppose that was about when the sarcastic defence evolved in me.

As soon as I paid the taxi driver and got out of the car, I could sense something was wrong. Or, right. There was someone in the house, and he smelt familiar, his taste on my tongue would be normal if it wasn't in these circumstances.

"Jack," I whispered under my breath and sprinted toward the front door. I unlocked the door with the ease of magic and practically flung myself into the house. Everything in the house was caked in a layer of accumulated dust from the past two years, and it was clear there was no power, water or gas, because I couldn't smell or hear that constant buzz that inhabited houses normally have. I was so eager to see Jack, that I'd forgotten the awkwardness between us. He was sitting at the dining table reading a newspaper, and just looked up casually as I entered. I stopped suddenly, staring at him. He looked like he always had; pale skin, casual good looks and demeanour which intimidate everyone except me. The sight of him brought on a wash of emotions. Mostly just a longing for everything to go back to the way it was before.

"You left this house for ours in New York?" Jack asked me rhetorically. Now that he wasn't in America his natural Afrikaans lilt came through his voice. I was so glad that he hadn't lost it living in America for so long. I'd always loved that accent, soft and reserved and almost dark at the same time. "This is way nicer, and so much bigger."

But I couldn't answer as Etihad's voice being thrown around inside my head, distracting me from answering and drowning out what Jack was saying. I managed to get out something that resembled words. "It was too quiet."

Jack stood, slowly, as if I was something was about to attack him. I realised I was standing ridged and stiff, and tried to relax my stance.

"Your sister called me," he explained. "So, I called Jace to see if you were at the Institute, and he said you were with me. Which, of course, was news to me. I honestly can't believe you pulled that trick." Oh, yeah, Jace had called my cell when I hadn't come back within a few hours. I had told him I was going to try to work things out with Jack – not a lie, I'd said I was 'going to _try_' not that I was actually going to do it. I figured it would buy me a little time.

"I didn't pull any trick," I said, suddenly realising my anger. "You kicked me out of the house anyway." Even I could hear the bitterness in my voice.

Jack didn't answer my comment, instead asking me a question. "Why'd you run?"

"How'd you get here so fast anyway?" I asked, dodging his question.

"I have contacts," Jack said easily.

I thought for a moment. "Magnus? You're kidding? Don't tell me he made you a portal? How much did that cost you?"

"You saved Alec's life. He did it for me as a favour."

"I should've thought of that," I mumbled under my breath.

"Why'd you run, Blair?" Jack asked again.

"You know me well enough to know why I ran," I muttered.

"Yes, but I figured I'd give you the benefit of the doubt." Jack stared at me, and I felt a shiver. "Because if you ran for the reason I think you did, then I'm glad I chased you."

And the words 'chased me' triggered something in my brain. Etihad had never chased me. He said he loved me, but he'd never chased me. He let me go, because he could live without me. He liked it when I was around, but he didn't like me enough to retrieve me if I ran. Jack had chased me. Something else clicked in my head, but I didn't want to link it.

My intense fear – that had always been there, but only strengthened with what happened in the Seelie Court – made me want to run again. Get out of the house and away from Jack, someone who was asking so much of me. I couldn't do it, and Jack knew that. Relationships scared me. Commitment scared me. I just couldn't do it. With family members it was different. But to give up to someone like that… I just couldn't. I know that it wasn't _giving up_ but to me that's what it felt like.

Etihad's voice mocked me. _Are you going to destroy him again? Are you going to leave him here as you escape to some sanctuary? What do you really think would happen? Your human friends would take you in again? You're too different now, Blair. They won't know you. They won't accept you. _

"I…" I didn't know what I wanted to say. "What are you going to do now? Take me back to New York?"

"Do you want to go back to New York?" Jack asked.

"No."

"Then I won't take you back to New York."

"So, why did you come here?"

"Because where has running ever gotten you, Blair? Nothing but trouble. I had to come down here it make sure you didn't manage to find something else to kill you."

Suddenly, I felt angry. "I can take care of my self."

"No," Jack said seriously. "You can't. You don't. You'll take care of everyone else except you. Then you almost get yourself killed. Do you enjoy self-harm? Do you take some sort of pleasure out of torturing yourself?"

"That's ridiculous," I snapped angrily.

"No, Blair, it's you. I know you want to try and find some sort of meaning in life, but have you ever thought that perhaps there isn't a meaning? I've been around a long time, and the only meaning in my life has been y–"

"Don't say it," I said quickly, moving away from him.

"You, Blair. You are the only meaning in my life."

I closed my eyes, hearing the words that tortured me. "Why now?"

"Because sometimes you need saving, Blair."

"But I can't do this!" I suddenly shouted. "You know that. I just can't do this. And it's not you, because if there was anyone it would be you, but I can't do it."

Jack sighed. "I know, Blair. I know it's who you are, and I know you don't think you can do it, but you underestimate yourself. Would it really be so terrible? Just us? Just being alone, together? Would it be that hard for you?"

A pang of longing hit me. God, how I did want to just _be_ with Jack. But I knew who I was, and I knew I wouldn't be able to do it. It was just… everything. The feeling that I couldn't escape. And if I loved him, it only made it worse, because then I knew I could never escape. I could only think of Etihad and it made me shiver. There was something in me that Etihad broke, and I couldn't fix it. And if Jack tried, it would only destroy him. I didn't want to destroy Jack because I loved him, but I didn't want to be with him for the same reason.

"Look, you have to trust me. I just… need to be alone for a while." I took a breath. I walked to the counter and opened and draw, finding a post-it note. I grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled two words on the note. I folded up the paper, walked to Jack, and put it in his palm. "Take this. Keep it for me. I'll find you again. And then, you can give this back to me."

"What is it?" Jack asked as he began to open it.

I grabbed his hand. "Don't. Not yet. When you're on the plane you can open it. Not before then."

Jack looked concerned. He put a hand to my face. I resisted the urge to place my hand on his. "Should I be worried?"

"You will be anyway," I told him, laughing to cover my tears.

Jack nodded. His face was cold, and it hurt. "Okay. Just… get back to me."

I wondered if Jack would try to come back when he read my note. I wondered if he knew that I'd run. I wondered if he knew that he wouldn't see me again.

I'd never thought of myself as self-destructive. I'd never tried to hurt myself or kill myself. But it was all about the emotions for me. I never thought it was. I thought that emotions were my downfall; that I had an inability to connect. That I tasted them and brushed them away. But no, I tasted them and I felt them and they hurt me. I was self-destructive. And although I didn't want to die, I didn't want to be… happy, I guess. I wanted Jack, but I couldn't love him. I just couldn't do that. I wasn't that person. I never had been.

Jack leant down to kiss me, and I let him, chastely, but just once. Then I pulled away, and turned my head, so I didn't have to look at him. I felt a burst of frustration come from Jack, and he grabbed my waist, pulling me into him. I couldn't look at his face.

"Blair?" he questioned. I didn't want to answer. My throat felt thick with tears I was hiding. Jack ran his hand over my cheek, and forced me to look at him. I looked into his eyes that had always been impossibly hazel, green and gold flecks teasing me. "I'll let you be alone. For a time. But come back."

I only nodded, not trusting myself with words. Jack leant down to kiss me again, but I pulled away harshly, hating myself for it.

Jack nodded, stiffly, and turned, walking away without saying anything. I heard the door open, and shut, his scent slowly disappeared as he got into a car – whose car it was, I couldn't be sure, he'd probably just stolen it – and drove away.

If I saw him again, it would be accidental. And he wouldn't forgive me. I wouldn't expect him to. I wouldn't want him to. But he couldn't love me, I mean, look at me, I destroyed everything I touched. Jack would be better off without me. At least that's what I tried to convince myself of.

I took what I needed from the house. Some of my old clothes, things, memories, then I left. I left the house. I left him.

I needed to be alone. I hadn't been alone in over two years. I needed to show myself I could stand up on my own.

_Well done,_ Etihad's voice mocked sarcastically. _Drove away the only man who'd ever loved you. Who will ever love you. What an effort. A congratulations is in order. Not many people can do that. You'd have to be heartless._

"No," I told Etihad's voice aloud. "I'm not heartless. Jack has my heart."

* * *

Jack held the post-it in his hand all the way to the airport. He held it with her image and her emotions. Her memories. He stepped onto the plane, took his seat, and waited. Impatiently.

People around him filled him with the emptiness of his life, now that Blair wasn't in it. The announcements, and displays and seatbelt lights happened around him like a blur, and then the rushing noise of the plane in the air began.

Jack took the post-it from his hand, and carefully unfolded it. In Blair's messy scrawl, were two words. Immediately Jack felt regret, hatred and desolation all at once. He shut his eyes against the words, but they were imprinted on the back of his eyelids:

My heart.

Blair had given Jack her heart. Jack had chased her once, and it hadn't been enough. Not for her. Not for him. It never would be enough. Jack knew it. He hated to admit it, but he knew it. Jack opened his eyes to the dim cabin lights, and knew that he'd never see Blair again.

* * *

**A/N: So… perhaps a little bittersweet, but I felt that this is who Blair is. If anyone has any questions, don't hesitate to ask. If there's anything that's unclear, or I didn't finish well, or forgot to finish at all, please tell me, and I'll try to clear it up.**

**I have just posted the prequel I began writing. It switches from Jack and Blair's point of view, and jumps back and forward through time. The MI crew won't be featured until the very last few chapters, but it's set in Cassandra Clare's world – although not just in New York - all over the world. **

**It's called Underworld Angels and is at this link: **http://www. fanfiction. net/s/53806 15/1/ Underworld_Angels

**Hope people don't hate me after this ending, and continue reading my prequel. Just remove the spaces when you put in the URL.  
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**I'd like to really thank everyone who read, even more to those who reviewed with thoughts and feedback. I am indebted to my brilliant beta-reader, and cannot thank her enough for all the hours of work she has put into this story for me. **

**Thank you everyone and check out Underworld Angels – I'm having so much fun with Jack's story and Blair's beginning. **

**Jess**


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